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NCrmVEO EXPRESSLY FOR ABaOTT'- LIVES OF THe PRESIDENTS 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 

OF THE 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 

FROM WASHINGTON TO THE PRESENT TIME. 



CONTAINING 



A NARRATIVE OF THE MOST INTERESTING EVENTS IN THE 

CAREER OF EACH PRESIDENT; THUS CONSTITUTING 

A GRAPHIC HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. 

TO WHICH IS ADDED 

^ Chapter s^ofcomg t^e f untJrcb gears' progress of t^e |lfpablit. 

BY 

JOHN S. C. ABBOTT AND RUSSELL H. CONWELL. 

ILLUSTRATED WITU PORTRAITS OF ALL THE PRESIDENTS ENGRAVED ON 
STEEL, PICTURES OF THEIR PRIVATE RESIDENCES, AND THIRTY 
OTHER WOOD ENGRAVINGS OF THE MOST INTERESTING 
SCENES IN THEIR LIVES, TOGETHER WITH ILLUS- 
TRATIONS OF THE CENTENNIAL JUBILEE. 



SOLD ONLY BY DISTRIBUTING AGENTS. 






PORTLAND, ME. : 

H. HALLETT AND COMPANY. 

1881. 



. f 



Copyright. 

H. Hallett and Co. 

1881. 



PREFACE. 



There are few persons who can read this record of the 
Lives of the Presidents of the United States without the 
conviction, that there is no other nation which can present 
a consecutive series of twenty rulers of equal excellence 
of character and administrative ability. Probably the least 
worthy of all our presidents would rank among the best 
of the kings whom the accident of birth has placed upon 
hereditary thrones ; and not an individual has popular suf- 
frage elevated to the presidential chair, whom one would 
think of ranking with those many royal monsters who have 
in turn disgraced all the courts of Europe. This record 
settles the question, that popular suffrage, in the choice of 
rulers, is a far safer reliance than hereditary descent. 

With us, the freedom of the press is so unlimited, and 
political partisanship so intense, that few persons have been 
able to take really an impartial view of the characters of 
those who have been by one party so inordinately lauded, 
and by the other so intemperately assailed. But, as we 
now dispassionately review the past, most readers will 
probably find many old prejudices dispelled. 

In writing these sketches, the authors have endeavored 
to be thoroughly impartial, and to place themselves in the 
position which the subject of the sketch occupied, so as to 
look from his stand-point upon the great questions which 
he was called to consider. John Adams and Thomas Jef- 
ferson were in political antagonism ; but no man can read 
a true record of their lives, and not be convinced that 
both were inspired with the noblest zeal to promote the 
best interests of their comitry and of the human race. 

The writers have not thought that impartiality requires 
that they should refrain from a frank expression of their 



4 PREFACE. 

own views. It is an essential part of biogra}3liy, that 
faults as well as virtues should be honestly detailed. No 
man is perfect. There have certainly been errors and 
wrong-doings in the past administration of this Govern- 
ment. It is not the duty of the impartial historical biog- 
ra2:>her to ignore such, or to gloss them over. They should 
be distinctly brought to light as instruction for the future. 
The materials from which the writers have drawn these 
biographical sketches are very abundant. Whatever of 
merit they possess must consist mainly in the skill which 
may be exhibited in selecting from the great mass those 
incidents which will give one the most vivid conception 
of the individual. The writers haA'e attempted, with much 
labor, to present a miniature likeness of each character 
which shall be faithful and striking. If they have failed, 
they can only say that they have honestly done their best. 
They have not deemed it expedient to encumber these 
pages with foot-notes, as most of the important facts here 
stated, it is believed, are unquestioned ; and all will be 
found substantiated in the memoirs and works, more or 
less voluminous, of our Chief Magistrates, contained in 
most of our large libraries. 

Note. — Since the priucipal portion of this book was written, the celebrated au- 
thor, John S. C. Al)bott, ha^ passed on to his eternal home. But he will long live 
on, as one of earth's moral powers, in the heart.? of thousands of sincere friends, and 
in the numerous thrilling volumes of history and liiograpliy whicii he has written. 

Russell H. Conwell. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

GEOKGE WASHINGTON. 

PAGE 

Ancestry. — Birth and Childhood. — The Youthful Engineer. — Life in the Wilderness. 

— War with the Indians. — Domestic Griefs. — The French War. — Heroism at Brad- 
dock's Defeat. — Marriage. — Mount Vernon. — Domestic Habits. — Kevolution. 

— Patriotism. — Commander-in-Chief. — Expulsion of the British from Boston. 

— Battles. — Self-sacrifice. — Alliance with France. — Capture of Cornwallis. — 
Close of the War. — Chosen President. — Retirement. — Life at Mount Vernon. — 
Sickness and Death 9 

CHAPTER IL 

JOHN ADAMS. 

Ancestry. — His Boyhood. — Marriage. — Defence of the Soldiers. — Patriotism. — The 
Continental Congress. — Energy of Mrs. Adams. — The A})pointment of Washing- 
ton. — The Declaration of Independence. — Delegate to France. — Adams and 
Franklin. — Franklin and Voltaire. — Mission to Holland. — The French Court. — 
Mission to England. — Presidential Career. — Last Days, and Death . . .57 

CHAPTER in. 

THOMAS JKKFEHSOX. 

Birth and Childhood. — College-life. — A Law-student. — Marriage. — Estate at Mon- 
ticc'llo. — Tlie (Continental Congress. — Governor of Virginia. — Death of his Wife. 

— Letters to his Children. — Jlinister to France. — Interest in the French Revolu- 
tion. — Returns to .\merica. — Secretary of State. — Monarcliical Sentiments. — 
Letters. — Weary of Office. — Vice-President. — President. — Inaugural. — Stormy 
Administration. — Scenes at Monticello. — Death 97 

CHAPTER IV. 

JAMES MADISON. 

Childhood. — College-life. — Enters Public Life. — Framing the Constitution. — In Con- 
gress. — Marriage. — Mrs. Madison. — Secretary of State. — The White House. — 
Friendship with .Jefferson. — Chosen President. — Right of Search. — War with 
England. — Re-elected. — Treaty of Ghent. — Old Age, and Death . . . . 148 

CHAPTER V. 

JAMES MONHOE. 

Parentage and Birth. — Education. — Enters the Army. — A Legislator. — A Senator. — 
Mission to France. — Bonaparte. — Colonel Monroe, Governor. — Secretary both of 
War and of State. — Elected to the Presidency. — Northern Tour. — The Monroe 
Doctrine. — Retirement and Death 169 

CHAPTER VI. 

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 

Birth and Childhood. — Education in Europe. — Private Secretary'. — Harvard College. 

— Studies Law. — Minister to the Netherlands. — Other "Missions. — Return to 
America. — Massachusetts Senate. — National House of Representatives. — Profes- 
sor of Rhetoric. — .Mission to Russia. — Secretary of State. — President. — Retire- 
ment. — House of Representatives. — Death 183 



6 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER Vir. 

ANDREW JACKSON. 

PAGE 

Birth and Education. — A Bad Boy. — Keeps School. — Studies Law. — Emigrates. — 
Frontier Life. — Low Tastes. — A Representative. — Senator. — Judge. — Shop- 
Keeper. — Major-General. — Quarrels and Duels. — Marriage and its Romance. — 
Fight with the Bentons. — War with the Indians. — Defence of New Orleans. — 
Passion and Violence. — President of tlie United States. — Conversion. — Death . 207 

CHAPTER VIH. 

MARTIN VAN BUREN. 

Birth and Childhood. — Studies Law. — Success as a Lawyer and Politician. — Secre- 
tary of State. — Mrs. Eaton. — Minister to England. — Rejected by the Senate. — 
Attains the Vice-Presidencj'. — Chosen President. — Retirement .... 241 

CHAPTER IX. 

WILLIAM HENKY HARRISON. 

Birth and Ancestry. — Enters United States Army. — Sent to Congress. — Governor of 
Indiana Territory. — Battle of Tippecanoe. — War with Great Britain. — Perplexi- 
ties and Labors. — The British Repulsed. — Tecumseh Slain. — Elected President. 

— Death 253 

CHAPTER X. 

JOHN TYLER. 

His Parentage. — Education and Scholarship. —Early Distinction. — Success at the Bar 
and in Political l^ife. — Democratic Principles. — Course in the Senate. — Elected 
Vice-President. — Accession to the Presidency. — Joins in the Rebellion. — Death . 274 

CHAPTER XI. 

JAMES KNOX POLK. 

Ancestry of Mr. Polk. — His Early Distinction. — His Success as a Lawyer. — In Con- 
gress. — Speaker in the House. — Governor of Tennessee. — Candidate for the Pres- 
idency. — Mexican War. — Retirement. — Sickness. — Death 284 

CHAPTER XII. 

ZACHARY TAYLOR. 

Birth. — Emigration to Kentucky. — Neglected Education. — Enters the Army. — Bat- 
tles with the Indians. — Campaign in Florida. — The Mexican War. — Palo Alto. 

— Resaca de la Palma. — Monterev. — Buena Vista. — The Presidency. — Suffer- 
ings. —Death . . . . ' '. , .299 

CHAPTER XIII. 

MILLARD FILLMORE. 

Low]}- Birth. — Struggles. — Limited Education. — Eagerness for Intellectual Improve- 
ment. — A Clothier. — A Law Student. — Commencement of Practice. — Rapid 
Rise. — In Congress. — Vice-President. — President. — His Administration. — Ke- 
tirement. — The Civil War 324 

CHAPTER XIV. 

FRANKLIN PIERCE. 

Character of his Father. — His Promise in Boyhood. — College Life. — Political Views. 

— Success as a Lawyer. — Entrance upon Public Life. — Service in the Mexican 
War. — Landing in Mexico. — March through the Country. ^The Presidency. — 
Retirement 332 



CONTENTS. 7 

CHAPTER XV. 

JAMES BUCHANAN. 

His Childhood's Home. — Devotion to Study. — Purity of Character. — Congressional 
Career. — Secretary of State. — Minister to the Court of St. James. — Ostend Mani- 
festo. — Presidency. — Retirement 302 

CHAPTER XVI. 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

Life in a Log Cabin. — A Day Laborer. — A Boatman. — A Shop-Keeper. — A Student. 

— A Legislator. — A Lawyer. — A Member of Congress — The Debate with Dou- 
glas. — The Presidency. — Habits of Temperance. — His Assassination . . .375 

CHAPTER XVH. 

ANDREW JOHNSON. 

His Lowly Origin. — Struggles. — State Representative, State Senator. — Congress. — 
Gorernor. — United States Senator. — Opposition to Secession. — Military Gov- 
ernor of Tennessee. — Vice-President. — President. — Conflict with Congress..— 

— His Policy 43G 

CHAPTER XVHL 

ULYSSES S. GRANT. 

Birth and Childhood. —At West Point. — On the Frontiers. —Mexican War. —Battle 
of Belmont. — Capture of Fort Donelson. — Shiloh and Pittsburg Landing. — Siege 
of Vicksburg. — Campaign of Chattanooga. — Lieuteuant-General. — Campaign of 
the Wilderness. — Capture of Lee's Army. — President 481 

CHAPTER XIX. 

RUTHERFORD B. HAYES. 

Birth. — Ancestry. — Childhood. — College Days. — Cambridge Law School. — Practice 
of the Law. — City Solicitor. — Military Services, Battles, and Wounds. — Election 
to Congress. — Governor of Ohio. — Administration 517 

CHAPTER XX. 

JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

Parentage. — Birth. — Wilderness. — Death of his Father. — Youthful Occupations. — 
Attempts to obtain an Education. — School Life. — College Days. — Marriage. — In 
State Senate. — Enters the War. — His Campaigns. — His Election to Congress. — 
His Legislative Career. — Fleeted to United States Senate. — Nomination for Presi- 
dent. — Election. — Inauguration 542 

CHAPTER XXI. 

ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

Territory. — Population. — Rapid Growth. — Public Buildings. — The Navy. — The 
National Flag. — The Armv. — The Declaration of Independence. — The Steam- 
boat. — The Railway. —Cotton.— Coal. — The Telegraph. — India-Rubber. — 
Anesthetics. — Matches. — Gas. — The Printing-Press. — Metallic Pens. — Da- 
guerreotypes. — Sewing-Machines. — Manufacturers in General. — The Telephone, 
Phonograph, and Electric Light. — The Centennial Jubilee. — Statistics of Progress. 

— Wonderful Development in Art, Sciences, Agriculture, and Manufactures. — The 
Influence of the United States on other Nations 542 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



STEEL-PLATE ILLUSTRATIONS. 

I. Group Plate of Four Presidents, containing likenesses of George Wash- 
ington. Abraham Lincoln, Andrew Jackson, and Andrew Johnson. Frontis- 
piece. 
II. The British Fleet leaving Boston Harbor 32 

III. Group Plate of Six Presidents, namely: John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, 

James Madison, James Monroe, John Quincy Adams, and Martin Van Buren 97 

IV. Battle of New Orleans 233 

V. Battle of Buena Vista 319 

VI. Group Plate of Seven Presidents, namely: William Henry Harrison, 
John Tyler, James K. Polk, Zachary Taylor, Millard Fillmore, Franklin 

Pierce, and James Buchanan 3^o 

VII. Abraham Lincoln entering Richmond 43C 

VIII. Portrait of General U. S. Grant 485 

IX. Portrait of Rutherford B. Hayes 517 

X. Portrait of James A. Garfield 542 

WOOD-CUT ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

Washington in a Perilous Situation . . IG 

Mount Vernon 50 

Residence of John Adams 65 

John Adams the Ambassador .... 82 
Monticello, Residence of Thomas Jef- 
ferson 97 

Jefferson's Return to Monticello . . . 120 
Residence of James Madison .... 148 

British Right of Search 162 

Residence of James Monroe .... 169 

The Barge 181 

Residence of John Quincy Adams . . 185 
John Quincy Adams in the House of 

Representatives 203 

Residence of Andrew Jackson . . . 207 

The Duel 222 

Residence of Martin Van Buren . . . 241 

Burning of the Caroline 251 

Residence of William Henry Harrison . 253 
Harrison's Interview with Tecumseh . 262 

Residence of John Tyler 274 

Residence of James K. Polk .... 284 
Residence of Zachary Taylor .... 299 
General Taj'lor on the Rio Grande . . 307 
Residence of Millard Fillmore .... 324 



PAGE 

The United States Senate 330 

Residence of Franklin Pierce .... 332 
General Pierce Landing in Mexico . . 335 
Residence of James Buchanan . . . 352 

Invasion of Kansas 359 

Residence of Abraham Lincoln . . . 375 

Assassination of Lincoln 432 

Residence of Andrew Johnson . . . 436 

Riot at New Orleans 473 

Residence of U. S. Grant 481 

Grant's Interview with Pemberton . . 490 

Residence of R. B. Hayes 517 

Residence of James A. Garfield . . . 543 

Hiram College 547 

The White House 571 

Carpenters' Hall, Philadelphia . . . 574 
Independence Hall, Philadelphia . . . 574 

Liberty Bell, Philadelphia 575 

Faneuil Hall, Boston 576 

Battle of Lexington 578 

Centennial. (Agricultural Hall.) . . 585 
Centennial. (Main Exhibition Build- 
ing.) 587 

Centennial. (Art Gallery.) .... 588 
Centennial. (Horticultural Building.) . 589 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

Ancestry of Washington. — His Birth and Childhood. — Anecdotes. — The Youthful Ei> 
gincer. — The Fairfax Family. — Life in the Wilderness. — War with the Indians.— 
Domestic Griefs. — The French War. — Washington's Heroism at Braddock's Defeat.— 
Scenes of Woe. — Marriage. — Inheritance of Mount Vernon. — Domestic Habits. — 
American Revolution. — Patriotism of Washington. — Appointed Commander-in-chief 

— Expulsion of the British from Boston. — Battles of the Revolution. — Perplexities and 
Sufferings. — Spirit of Self-sacrifice. — Alliance with France. — Capture of Cornwallis. 

— Attacks upon the Character of Washington. — The Tomahawk and Scalping-knife. — 
Close of the War. — Washington chosen President. — His Retirement. — Peaceful Life 
at Mount Vernon. — Sickness and Death. 

Two centuries ago, Virginia was almost an unexplored wilder- 
ness ; but, even then, the beautiful realm had obtained much 
renown from the sketches of chance tourists. The climate, the 
soil, the rivers, bays, mountains, valleys, all combined to render it 
one of the most attractive spots upon our globe. Two young 
brothers, of wealth, intelligence, and high moral principle, — Law- 
rence and John Washington, — were lured by these attractions to 
abandon their home in England's crowded isle, and seek their 
fortunes in this new world. They were both gentlemen. Law- 
rence was a fine scholar, a graduate of Oxford : John was an 
accomplished man of business. 

After a dreary voyage of four months, they entered that mag- 
nificent inland sea, Chesapeake Bay, and from that ascended the 
beautiful Potomac. It was a scene as of Fairyland, which was 
spread around them that bright summer morning, when their 
vessel, propelled by a favoring breeze, glided over the mirrored 

2 9 



10 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

waters of that river which the name of Washington was subse* 
quentlj to render so renowned. The unbroken forest in all ita 
primeval grandeur swept sublimely over hill and valley. The 
birch canoes of the Indian paddled by warriors in their pictii 
resque attire of paint a^^- feathers, glided buoyant as bubbles 
over the waves. Distanoo lent enchantment to the view of wig- 
wam villages in sunny coves, with boys and girls frolicking on 
the beach and in the water. 

The two brothers had purchased a large tract of land aboui 
fifty miles above the mouth of the river, and on its western 
banks. John built him a house, and married Miss Anne Pope. 
Years rolled on, of joys and griefs, of smiles and tears, of births 
and d(^aths ; and the little drama, so trivial, so sublime, of that 
family life, disappeared, ingulfed in the fathomless sea of the 
ages. Augustine, the second son of John, who, like hib father, 
was an energetic, wise, good man, remained in the paternal 
homestead, cultivating its broad acres. Life, if prolonged, is a 
tragedy always, Augustine's wife, Jane Butler, as lovely in 
character as she was beautiful in person, died, leaving in the 
house, darkened with grief, three little motherless children. The 
disconsolate father, in the course of years, found another mother 
for his bereaved household. 

He was singularly fortunate in his choice. Mary Ball was 
'^very thing that husband or child could desire. She was beauti- 
ful in person, intelligent, accomplished, energetic and prudent, 
and a warm-hearted Christian. Augustine and Mary were mar- 
ried on the 6th of March, 1730. On the 22d of February, 1732, 
they received into their arms their first-born child. Little did 
they dream, as they bore their babe to the baptismal font and 
called him George Washington, that that name was to become 
one of the most memorable in the annals of time. Explain it as 
we may, there is seldom a great and a good man to be found who 
lias not had a good mother. 

In this respect, George Washington was very highly bierjsed. 
Both of his parents were patterns for a child to follow. The 
birthplace of George, though very secluded, was one of the most 
picturesque spots on the banks of the Potomac. His parents 
were wealthy for those times, and his home was blessed with all 
substantial comforts. A beautiful lawn, smooth and green, spread 
in gentle descent from the door-stone of their one-story cottage 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 11 

io the pebbly shore of the river, which here spread out into a 
magnificent breadth of nearly ten miles. On the eastern bank, 
there extended, as far as the eye could reach, the forest-covered 
hills and vales of Maryland. A few islands contributed their 
charm to this view of surpassing loveliness. The smoke of 
Indian fires curled up from the forest, the flash from the paddle 
of the Indian canoe glanced over the waves, and occasion- 
ally the sails of the white man's ship were seen ascending the 
stream. 

From earliest childhood, George developed a very noble char- 
acter. He had a vigorous constitution, a fine form, and great 
bodily strength. In childhood, he was noted for frankness, fear- 
lessness, and moral courage ; and yet he was as far removed as 
possible from manifesting a quarrelsome spirit, or from displaying 
any of the airs of the bravado. He never tyrannized over others; 
and none in his peaceful, rural, virtuous home were found to 
attempt to tyrannize over him. We must not omit the story, 
though the world has it by heart, of his cutting the cherry-tree. 
His reply to his indignant father, whose impetuous nature was 
roused by the outrage, " Father, I cannot tell a lie, I cut the 
tree," was but the development in boyhood of the character of 
his manhood. The father was worthy of the child. " Come to 
my heart," said he, as he embraced him with flooded eyes : 
"I had rather lose a thousand trees than find falsehood in my 
son." 

Man is born to mourn. After twelve happy years of union with 
Mary Ball, when George was but ten years of age, Augustino 
Washington died, leaving George and five other children father* 
less. The grief-stricken mother was equal to the task thus im- 
posed upon her. The confidence of her husband in her judgment 
and maternal love is indicated by the fact, that he left the income 
of the entire property to her until her children should respec- 
tively come of age. Nobly she discharged the task thus imposed 
upon her. A nation's homage gathers around the memory of the 
mother of Washington. George never ceased to revere his 
mother. He attributed to the principles of probity and religion 
which she instilled into his mind much of his success during the 
eventful career through which Providence led him. 

In the final division of the estate, the oldest son, Lawrence, the 



t2 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

child of Jane Butler, inherited Mount Yernon, including twenty- 
five hundred acres of land. George received the paternal mansion, 
which was some distance farther down the river, with the broad 
acres surrounding it. The other children were also amply pro- 
vided for. Lady Washington, before her marriage, was regarded 
R.1 one of the most beautiful girls in Virginia. Her figure was 
commanding, her features lovely, and her demeanor dignified and 
cGiirtly. Life's severe discipline developed a character simple, 
sincere, grave, cheered with earnest and unostentatious piety. 
Hei well-balanced mind gave her great influence over her noble 
son, which she retained until the hour of her death. 

Mrs. Alexander Hamilton tells the story, that, when George 
Washington was in the meridian of his fame, a very brilliant 
party was given in his honor at Fredericksburg, Ya. When the 
ohurch-bell rang the hour of nine. Lady Washington rose, and said, 
*'Come, George, it is nine o'clock: it is time for us to go home." 
George, like a dutiful son, offered to his mother his arm, and they 
retired. We must not, however, fail to record that Mrs. Hamil. 
ton admits, that, after George had seen his mother safely home, he 
returned to tht party. 

There was then, as now, in Yirginia, great fondness for splendid 
horses. Lady Washington had a span of iron-grays, very spirited, 
and very beautiful. With much pride she sat at her window, and 
gazed upon the noble creatures feeding upon the lawn, and often 
gambolling like children at play. One of these fiery colts, though 
accustomed to the harness with his companion in the carriage, 
had never been broken to the saddle. Some young men, one day, 
companions of George, in a frolic endeavored to mount the fiery 
steed. It could not be done. George, who was then about thir- 
teen years of age, approached, soothed the animal by caresses, 
and, watching his opportunity, leaped upon his back. The horse, 
half terrified, half indignant, plunged and reared, in the vain 
attempt to free himself of his rider, and then, with the speed of 
the winds, dashed over the fields. George, exultant, sat his horse 
like a centaur, gave him free rein, and, when he flagged, urged 
him on. 

Fearless, ardent, imprudent, he forgot the nervous energy of 
the noble steed, and was not aware of the injury he was doing 
nntil the horse broke a i^lood-vessel, and dropped beneath him. 



GEOllGE WASHINGTON. 13 

Covered with foam, and gasping for breath, the poor creature 
almost immediately died. George was greatly alumed, --nd has- 
tened to his mother to tell her what he had done. Her o^^ri an-' 
characteristic reply was, — 

" My son, I forgive you, because you have had the courage to 
tell me the truth at once. Had you skulked away, I should liavo 
despised you." 

There was a common school in tlie neighborhood, wliich Gciorga 
attended, and where he acquired the rudiments of a good Flngi^slj 
education. He was a diligent scholar, without developing any great 
intellectual brilliance. He possessed strong common sense, and a 
remarkably well-balanced mind. There is now extant a manuscript 
in his plain, legible handwriting, in which, in those boyish days, 
he had carefully written out several forms of business-papers, that 
he might be ready on any emergency, without embarrassment, to 
draw up correctly such documents. The manuscript contains 
promissory-notes, bills of sale, land-warrants, leases, deeds, and 
wills. His serious, devotional character was developed in those 
early years. Several hymns, expressing earnest religious senti- 
ments, he had carefully transcribed. Another manuscript-book, 
which he had evidently collated with great care and sedulously 
studied, contained a record of " Rules of Behavior in Company 
and in Conversation." 

" The boy is father of the man." This lad of thirteen years, iu 
his secluded rural home, wis pondering the great mygteries of the 
present and the future life, and was, with careful study, cultivating 
his mind, his manners, and his heart. He could hardly have made 
better preparation for the career whicli was before him had some 
good angel whispered into his ear the immense responsibilities 
which were to be laid upon him, and the renown he was to 
acquire. It was this early training, to which he was undoubt- 
edly in some degree stimulated by the mind of his mother, to 
which he was indebted for much of his subsequent success in 
life. 

At sixteen years of age, George, then a man in character, and 
almost a man in stature, left school. He excelled in mathematical 
studies, and had become familiar with the principles of geometry 
and trigonometry and of practical surveying. It was then his 
Intention to become a civil engineer. At that time, in this new 



14 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

and rapidlj-growing countiy, there was great demand for such 
ser^vices, and the employment was very lucrative. There were 
then in the colonies but few men who were proficients in those 
sciences. George Washington came from school an accomplishec' 
man. He had formed his character upon the right model. Every 
thing he did, he did well. If he wrote a letter, every word was 
as plain as print, with spelling, capitals, punctuation, all correct. 
His diagrams and tables were never scribbled off, but all exe- 
cuted with great beauty. These excellent habits, thus early 
formed, were retained through life. 

Upon leaving school, George went to spend a little time with 
his elder half-brother, Lawrence, at Mount Vernon. Then, as 
now, that was an enchanting spot. The house was situated upon 
a fiwell of land, commanding an extensive view of the Potomac and 
of the surrounding country. It was nearly one hundred miles 
above the birthplace of the two children and the home of George. 
Aliout eight miles from Mount Vernon, an English gentleman, Mr. 
William Fairfax, resided. He was rich, with highly cultivated 
mind and polished manners, and a model for imitation in all 
private and social virtues. Lawrence Washington had married 
one of his daughters. George became intimate with the family, 
and derived much advantage from his association v.'itli these 
ladies. 

Lord Fairfax, a near relative of William, a man of large fortune 
and of romantic tastes, had been lurod by the charms of this 
delightful region to purchase a vast territory, which extended far 
away, over the Blue Mountains, to an undefined distance in the 
interior It was a property embracing rivers and mountains, 
forests and prairies, and wealth unexplored. Lord Fairfax was 
at that time visiting William. He was charmed with young 
Washington, his frankness, his intelligence, his manliness, his gen- 
tlemanly bearing, — a boy in years, a man in maturity of wisdom 
and character. 

Lord Fairfax engaged this lad, then but one month over sixteen 
years of age, to explore and survey these pathless wilds, a large 
portion of which was then^ ranged only by wild beasts and savage 
men. It may be doubted whether a lad of his age ever before 
undertook a task so arduous. With a few attendants, the boy 
entered the wilderness. It was the month of March, cold and 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. lb 

blustering. Snow still lingered on the tops of the mountains, 
and whitened the sunless ravines. The spring freshets had swollen 
the rivers. The Indians were friendly, hospitable, and willing 
to act as guides. Frontiersmen, a rough and fearless set of 
men, were scattered about among the openings in the wilder- 
ness. 

Through these solitudes the heroic boy was to thread his way, 
now following the trail of the Indian, now floating in the birch 
canoe upon the silent rivers, and now climbing mountains or 
struggling through morasses which the foot of the white man 
had perhaps never yet pressed. Often the cabin of the settler 
afforded him shelter for a night. Frequently he slept in the open 
air, with his feet to the fire. Again the wigwam of the Indian 
was hospitably open to receive him. It must have been a strange 
experience to this quiet, thoughtful, adventurous boy, to find 
himself at midnight, in the forest, hundreds of miles from, the 
haunts of civilization. The cry of the night-bird, the howl of the 
wolf, or perhaps the wailings of the storm, fell mournfully upon 
his ear. He gazed upon the brands flickering at his feet, on the 
ground-floor of the hut. The Indian warrior, his squaw, and the 
dusky pappooses, shared with him the fragrant hemlock couch. 
We have some extracts from the journal which he kept, which 
give us a vivid idea of the life he then led. Under date of March 
15, 1748, he writes, — 

" Worked hard till night, and then returned. After supper, we 
were lighted into a room ; and I, not being so good a woodman as 
the rest, stripped myself very orderly, and went into the bed, 33 
they call it, when, to ray surprise, I found it to be nothing but a 
little straw matted together, without sheet or any thing olse^ but 
only one threadbare blanket, with double its weight of verxnin. 
[ was glad to get up and put on my clothes, and lie as d?7 com- 
panions did. Had we not been very tired, I am sure we should 
not have slept much that night. I made a promise to sbep so 
no more in a bed, choosing rather to sleep in the open air be^Lre 
a fire." 

On the 2d of April he writes, " A blowing, rainy night. Our 
straw, upon which we were lying, took fire ; but I was luckily 
j)reserved by one of our men awaking when it v/as in a flamo. 
We have run ofi" four lots this day." 



16 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 




AVASHINGTON THE SURVEYOR IN A PERILOUS SITUATION. 



The following extract from one of his letters, written at this 
time, develops his serious, thoughtful, noble character, and also 
the adventurous life into which he had plunged : — 

"The receipt of your kind leuter of the 2d instant afforded me 
unspeakable pleasure, as it convinces me that I am still in tho 
memory of so worthy a friend, — a friendship I shall ever be proud 
of increasing. Yours gave me more pleasure, as I received it 
among barbarians and an uncouth set of people. Since you 
received my letter of October last, I have not slept above three 
or four nights in a bed ; but, after walking a good deal all the day, 
I have lain down before the fire on a little hay, straw, fodder, or 
bear-skin, whichever was to be had, with man, wife, and children, 
like dogs and cats ; and happy is he who gets the berth nearest 
the fire. I have never had my clothes off, but have lain and slepj 
on them, except the few nights I have been in Fredericksburg."' 

Such experiences rapidly develop and create character. George 
returned from this tramp with all his manly energies consolidated 
by toil, peril, and hardship. Though but seventeen years of ago. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. li 

he was a responsible, self-reliant man. The State of Yirginiu. now 
employed him as public surveyor. For three years he waa en- 
gaged in these laborious duties, which introduced him to scenes 
of romance and adventure, in which his calm, strong, well-regu- 
lated spirit found a singular joy. We can hardly conceive of 
any thing more attractive than such a life must have been to a 
young man of poetic imagination. The Indian paddled him, in 
his fairy-like canoe, along the river or over the lake. Now ho 
stood, in the bright morning sunlight, upon the brow ol' the moun- 
tain, gazing over an interminable expanse of majestic forests 
where lakes slept, and streams glided, and valleys opened in Eden- 
like beauty. Though ho often, during these three years, visited 
the home of his mother, his headquarters, if we may so speak, 
were with his brother at Mount Vernon, as this was much more 
accessible from his field of labor. Lord Fairfax, \\\\o, it is said, 
was the victim of a love disappointment, had built him a sub- 
stantial stone mansion in the valley beyond the Blue Ridge, 
where he was living in a sort of baronial splendor, and where 
George Washington was an ever-welcome guest. 

At the age of nineteen, George Washington was one of the 
prominent men of the State of Virginia. The Indians were now 
beginning to manifest a hostile spirit. There is between savago 
and civilized life an " irrepressible conflict." Where wild beasts 
range freely, offering food for the hunter, there cannot be highly 
cultivated fields. Where the hum of human industry is heard, 
with villages, churches, schools, and manufactories, there cau be 
no forest left for buffaloes, bears, and deer. Civilization was rap. 
idl}^ supplanting barbarism, and the savages were alarmed. They 
kindled their council-fires ; pondered the question of the encroach, 
ments of industry, education, and wealth ; and resolved, Satan- 
inspired, to sweep every vestige of civilization from the land, 
tiiat this continent might remain a howling wilderness. 

The war-whoop echoed through the forest, and the Indians 
lighted their torches and sharpened their scalping-knives and 
tomahawks in preparation for the great battle. Billows of flame 
and woe desolated the land. Yelling savages rushed at midnight 
upon the cabin of the remote settler. Husband, wife, children, 
were all speedily massacred, and their bodies were consumed in 
the fire which destroyed their dwellings. No tongue can tell the 
woes which ensued. The whole military force of Virginia waa 

3 



18 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

called into action to meet this terrible foe, emerging at will frouj 
the forest, striking its terrific blows, and then retiring to those 
depths of the wilderness where pursuit was unavailing. The 
State was divided into districts, over each of which a military 
commander was appointed with the title of major. The respon. 
sibilities of these majors were very great ; for, in the fearful emer- 
o-ency, they w^ere necessarily intrusted with almost dictatorial 
powers. 

George Washington, who, be it remembered, was but nineteen 
years of age, was one of these majors. With characteristic saga- 
city and energy, he applied himself to the study of the military 
art, familiarizing himself with strategy and tactics, making himself 
a proficient in the manual exercise, and acquiring the accomplish- 
ments of a good swordsman. Ingredients of bitterness are 
mingled in every cup of life. Storm after storm sweeps the 
ocean. Lawrence Washington was attacked with a painful and 
fital disease. With fraternal love, George accompanied him to 
the West Indies, hoping that tender nursing and a change of 
climate might save him. " May you die at home ! " is one of the 
Oriental benedictions. The invalid continued to fail during the 
tour, and only reached home in time to die. Virtues, like vices, 
love company, and live in groups. The Washingtons were a 
noble race. Lawrence was the worthy brother of George, en- 
deared to his friends by every attraction which can make home 
happy. He died at the age of thirty-four, leaving an infant child 
and a broken-hearted widow. 

The grief of George was very bitter. The loss of such a 
l)rother, so noble, so loving, was irreparable. Lawrence had been 
to George as both father and brother. He left a large property. 
Mount Vernon was bequeathed to his infant daughter -and, should 
she die without heirs, it was to pass to George, who was the ex- 
ecutor of the estate. 

Virginia, on the west, is bounded for a distance of several 
hundred miles by the waters of the Ohio ; la belle riviere, as the 
French appropriately named it. England had seized the coast of 
the North-American continent; had peopled it with colonies, whose 
enterprising, migratory population were rapidly crowding back 
into the vast and unexplored interior. France, with much sagacity, 
had seized the two most magnificent rivers of our land, the St. 
Lawrence and the Mississippi. Each of these European kingdoms, 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 19 

then eqiiall}'- powerful, was jealous of the other. While England 
was pushing her possessions rapidly towards the centre of the 
continent, France, equally eager to seize the boundless treasure, 
was rushing up the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi, estabhah- 
ing military posts and trading depots, forming treaties with the 
Indian tribes, and claiming, by right of these explorations, all that 
vast valley of millions of square miles drained by the Mississifjpi 
find its tributaries, and by the St. Lawrence and its chain of 
lakes. 

Instead of settling the question by some amicable compromise, 
both parties determined to fight. Probably both were equally 
arrogant and unrelenting in their demands. John Bull has never 
been famed for the spirit of conciliation, and France has never 
been wanting in ambition. While the wordy warfare was raging 
between the two powerful contestants, the Indians shrewdly sent 
a deputation to the Governor of Virginia, inquiring what portion 
of the country belonged to them, since England, as they expressed 
it, demanded all the land on one side of the river, and France all 
upon the other. 

And now the dogs of war were let loose. France and England 
met, straining every nerve, upon the bloody arena. Both parties 
dragged the Indian tribes into the conflict. Woes ensued which 
can never be revealed until the judgment of the great day. Con- 
Bagration. massacre, outrage, filled all homes with consternation, 
and deluged the land in misery. The solitude of the wilderness 
was broken as savage bands burst from the l^rest, with the hide- 
ous war-whoop, upon tl e cabin of the lonely settler. The shriek.i 
of the father, the mother, and the maiden, as they suffered all 
which savage brutality could devise, swept like the moaning 
wind through the wilderness, and no one was left to tell the 
tale. 

Just before hostilities commenced, the Governor of Virginia 
sent George Washington as a commissioner to remonstrate Avith 
the French against establishing their military posts upon the 
waters of the Ohio. To carry this remonstrance to the garrisons 
to which it was sent, it was necessary that he should traverse a 
wilderness for a distance of five hundred and sixty miles, where 
there was no path but the trail of the Indian, and no abode but 
the wigwam of the savage. In this undertaking, there were two 
objects in view. The ostensible one was to present the remon- 



20 LIV±:ti OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

strance : the real one was to ascertain the number, strength, and 
position of the French garrisons. 

It was a perilous enterprise. There was danger of perishing 
in the wilderness. There was danger from the tomahawk of the 
savage. There was danger that the French might not allow the 
commissioner to return with information so valuable to their foes ; 
and, in those rude times and regions, it was very easy so to arrange 
matters that the party could be plundered and massacred. No 
suitable person could be found to run these risks until George 
Washington volunteered his services. He was then but twenty 
years and six months of age. As Gov. Dinwiddie, a sturdy 
old Scotchman, eagerly accepted the proffered service, he ex- 
claimed, — 

" Truly, you are a brave lad ; and, if you play your cards well, 
you shall have no cause to repent your bargain." 

Washington started from Williamsburg on this perilous expedi- 
tion on the 14th of November, 1753. There is something very 
sublime in the calm courage with which he set out, well knowing 
that he was to pass through the region of hostile Indian tribes ; 
and that it was their practice, not merely to kill their prisoners, 
but to prolong their sufferings, as far as possible, through the 
most exquisite and diabolical tortures. He took with him but 
eight men, two of them being Indians. They soon passed the 
few sparse settlements which were springing up near the Atlan- 
tic coast, and plunged into the pathless forest. Winter was fast 
approaching, and its dismal gales wailed through the tree-tops. 
The early snow crowned the summits of the mountains, and the 
autumnal rains had swollen the brooks and the rivers. 

Guided by the sagacity of the Indians, they threaded the forest 
until they reached the Monongahela, which, flowing from the 
•south, unites with the Alleghany from the north, and forms the 
Ohio. Here they took a canoe, and in eight days paddled down 
the river to the mouth of the Alleghany, where Pittsburg now 
stands. They then descended the Ohio, with an ever-vigilant eye, 
for a distance of a hundred and twenty miles, to the principal 
port of the French commandant. Hs^ving successfully accom- 
plished thus much of his mission, and fearing that the Indiana 
might of their own will, or instigated by the French, intercept 
bis return, he started, with but one faithful companion, to make 
lus way back through the wilderness on foot, with their packs 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 21 

on tlieir backs, and their guns in their hands. Washington's sus- 
picions proved not to be groundless. Some Indians were put 
upon their trail bj the French. AVashington's familiarity with 
wilderness life and Indian strategy enabled him to elude them. 
One Indian, however, succeeded in joining them, and offered his 
services as a guide. Treacherously he led them from their path, 
hoping to lure them into some ambush, and striving, but in vain, 
with all the arts of Indian cunning, to get possession of Wayhing- 
<.on's gun. 

At night, seeing them so much fatigued by their day's tramp that 
he thought that they could not possibly pursue him, he, at fifteen 
paces distant, fired at Washington, missed his aim, and sprang into 
the woods. Ho was caught. Washington's companion. Gist, waa 
for despatching him on the spot; but Washington, regarding the 
wretched savage but as the tool of others, insisted upon letting 
him go. They did so ; and then, without rest and without a 
guide, pushed on through the long December night. When they 
reached the Alleghany River, opposite the present site of Pitts- 
burg, they found the banks of the river fringed with ice, and large 
blocks drifting furiously down the middle of the stream. All day 
long, with one poor hatchet, they toiled to build a raft. It was a 
frail aft'air. As they struggled upon it through the broken masses 
of ice, it threatened every moment to go to pieces. 

In the middle of the stream, Washington's setting-pole became 
entangled, and he was thrown into the river where it was ton 
feet deep. He was saved from drowning by clinging to a log. 
At length, they succeeded in reaching an island, where they 
passed a dismal night, their clothes frozen into coats of maiL 
The night was so cold, that in the morning the river was frozen 
over, and they crossed upon the ice. Washington's journal of this 
tour was published in London, and attracted much attention, as 
it contained conclusive proof that tlie French would resist any 
attempts of the English to establish their settlement^ upon the 
Ohio. The Legislature of Virginia was in session at Williamsburg 
when Washington returned. Modestly, and unconscious that he 
would attract any attention, he went into the gallery to observe 
the proceedings. The speaker chanced to see him, and, rising, 
proposed that 

" The thanks of this house be given to Major Washington, who 
DOW sits in the gallery, for the gallant manner in which he has 



22 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

executed the important trust lately reposed in him by his Excel 
lency the Governor." 

Every member of the house rose to his feet ; and Washington 
was greeted with a simultaneous and enthusiastic burst of ap* 
plause. Embarrassed by the unexpected honor, and unaccus- 
tomed to public speaking, the young hero endeavored in vain to 
give utterance to his thanks. The speaker of the house happily 
came to his rescue, saying, " Sit down, Major Washington: your 
modesty is alone equal to your merit." 

Gov. Dinwiddie, a reckless, headstrong man, instantly organized 
a force, with orders " to drive away, kill, or seize as prisoners, all 
persons, not the subjects of the King of Great Britain, who should 
attempt to take possession of the lands on the Ohio or any of its 
tributaries." 

A regiment of about four hundred men was raised. Wash- 
ington was appointed colonel. His mission was to march again 
through the wilderness, and drive the French from the Ohio. 
Washington had selected the point at the junction of the Monon- 
gahela and the AUegliany for a fort. But the French anticipated 
him. As he was hurrying to this spot with his garrison, and with 
the tools to construct a fort, he was disappointed and alarmed to 
hear that the French were already at work, under skilful engi- 
neers, in throwing up their ramparts upon the very spot which 
he had selected. A thousand men from Canada had descended 
the river in sixty bateaux and three hundred canoes. They 
had already eighteen pieces of cannon in position. Washington 
had arrived very near Fort Duquesne before he received these 
tidings. The thought of attacking the French in such overpow- 
ering numbers, and behind their ramparts, was madness. Retreat, 
in their exhausted state, back through the wilderness, was almost 
impossible. Besides, the French, through their spies, had kept a 
close watch upon them. Their Indian allies were on the march to 
intercept their retreat. Washington was then but twenty-two years 
of age. His sufferings, in view of the humiliating surrender of his 
whole force Avithout striking a blow, must have been awful. He 
was ready for almost any act of desperation rather than to do 
this. As yet, there was no war declared. The nations were at 
peace, not a hostile gun had been fired. In building the fort on 
disputed territory, which was then in the hands of the French, 
iha French had merely anticipated the English by a few days. It 



GEOKGE WASHINGTON. 23 

was said that Indians allies were marching against the English; 
but this was rumor merely. No such foe had appeared. There 
is some little diversity of statement in reference to what imme- 
diately followed ; but, so far as can now be ascertained, the follow- 
ing appear to be the facts : — 

The French say that they sent out M. Jumonville as a civil 
messenger to confer with the English respecting the object of 
their approach, as there was no declaration of war. Washington 
was informed that a party of French, from the fort, was on the 
march to attack him by surprise. Just then, there came a night 
dark and stormy, with floods of rain. Washington took forty men, 
leaving the rest to guard the camp, and through the midnight 
tempest and gloom, guided by some friendly Indians, reached, just 
before daylight in the morning, the camp where Jumonville and 
his men were unsuspectingly sleeping. Washington, regarding 
them as foes who were on the march to strike him by surprise, 
fell instantly upon them. There was a short, fierce conflict, 
Jumonville and ten of his men were killed. A few escaped. The 
rest, twenty-five in number, were taken prisoners. The war was 
thus inaugurated, — a long, cruel, bloody war of seven years. 

This occurrence created great excitement at the time, and 
Washington was very severely blamed ; but, now that the pas- 
sions of that day have passed, the French magnanimously concur 
in the general verdict, that the event must be regarded as an un- 
toward accident. Nothing is more certain than that Washington 
would have shrunk from any dishonorable deed. The peculiar 
perplexity and peril in which the young soldier was placed shield 
his fame from tarnish. 

But this act opened the drama of war with all its horrors. The 
French, apprised of the deed, and regarding it as one of the 
grossest of outrages (for Jumonville had reall}'' been sent as a 
peaceful messenger), immediately despatched fifteen hundred men, 
French and Indians, to avenge the wrong. Washington could 
not retreat ; neither could he fight such overwhelming numbers 
with any hope of success. Still he threw up such breastworks as 
could be hastily constructed, and, with less than four hundred 
men, fought for a whole day against the army which surrounded 
him. Starvation compelled him to capitulate. M. de Villers, the 
French commander, was generous. The Virginia troops were 
allowed to retire with every thing in their possession except 



24 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

their artillery. Thus they returned unmolested to the settle 
ments. 

On the whole, Washington's character did not suffer from thia 
adventure. That he should be able to secure such favorable 
terms of capitulation, and march back his little force through tho 
wilderness, notwithstanding the lawless character of the Indians, 
who, in such formidable numbers, were marshalled against him, 
was considered evidence of both sagacity and military genius. 
Many of the wild frontiersmen, waifs from all lands, who had been 
gathered into the ranks of Washington's army, were coarse and 
wicked men. Washington, as a gentleman and a Christian, ab- 
horred the vice of profane swearing, to which they were very 
much addicted. The following record from one of the orders of 
the day will explain itself: — 

" Col. Washington has observed that the men of his regiment 
are very profane and reprobate. He takes this opportunity 
to inform them of his great displeasure at such practices ; and 
assures them, that, if they do not leave them off, they shall be 
severely punished. The officers are desired, if they hear any 
man swear or make use of an oath or execration, to order the 
offender twenty-five lashes immediately, without a court-martial. 
For a sec^.id offence, he shall be more severely punished." 

On another occasion, when commander-in-chief of the army 
struggling for our national independence, he invited a number of 
officers to dine with him. At the table, one of the guests, in con- 
versation, uttered an oath, Washington dropped his knife and 
fork as suddenly as if he had been struck a blow, and thus arrested 
the attention of the whole company. In very deliberate and sol- 
emn tones he then said, " I thought that I had invited only gen- 
tlemen to my table." 

Early in the spring of 1755, Gen. Braddock, a self-conceited, 
stubborn man, landed in Virginia with two regiments of regular 
troops from Great Britain. Arrogant in the pride of his technical 
military education, he despised alike Frenchmen, Indians, and 
colonists. With his force, Braddock started on a march through 
the wilderness for the reduction of Fort Duquesne. Washington 
accompanied him as volunteer aid. As he abandoned important 
domestic business, and received no remuneration whatever for 
his services, he must probably have been influenced by patriotism 
And the love of adventure. In a straggling line four miles in 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 2!) 

length, tbis army of two thousand men, totally unaijquainted with 
Indian warfare, and thoroughly despising such barbaric foes, 
commenced its march, with ponderous artillery and a cumbrous 
baggage-train, through the forest, for the distant junction of the 
A.lleghany and the Monongahela. Washington, who well knew 
the foe they were to encounter, was alarmed at this recklessnes.^, 
and urged greater caution. The regular British general was net 
lo be taught the art of war by a provincial colonel, who had never 
oven seen the inside of a military school. Successfully they had 
threaded the wilderness, and on a beautiful summer's day they 
were exultingly marching along the banks of the Monongahela, 
when they entered a defile of rare picturesque beauty. 

The majestic forest spread around in all directions. On each 
side of a sort of natural path there was a deusc growth of under- 
brush, rising as high as the men's heads. It would seem as 
though some bad genius had formed the spot for an Indian ambush. 
Proudly the army straggled along, with laughter and song, with 
burnished muskets and polished cannon and silken banners. 
They were British troops, led by British regular officers. What 
had they to fear from cowardly Frenchmen or painted savages ? 
It was one of those silent days, calm, serene, sunny, when all 
nature seems hushed and motionless, which Herbert has so graphi- 
cally described, — 

" Sweet day. so still, so calm, so bright, 
The bridal of the earth and sky." 

Suddenly, like the burst of thunder from the cloudless heavens, 
came the crash of musketry, and a tempest of lead swept through 
their astounded ranks. Crash followed crash in quick succession, 
before, behind, on the right, on the left. No foe was to be seen ; 
yet every bullet accomplished its mission. The ground was soon 
covered with the dead, and with the wounded struggling in dying 
agonies. Amazement and consternation ran through the ranks. 
An unseen fire was assailing them. It was supernatural ; it was 
ghostly. Braddock stood his ground with senseless, bull-dog 
courage, until he fell pierced by a bullet. After a short scene of 
confusion and horror, when nearly half of the array were slain, the 
remnant broke in wild disorder, and fled. The ambush was en- 
tirely successful. Six hundred of these unseen assailants were 
Indians. They made the forest ring with their derision in scorn 
of the folly of Braddock. 



26 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Washington, through this awful scene, which he bad been cod 
fitantly anticipating, was perfectly collected, and, with the coolesi 
courage, did every thing which human sagacity could do to retrieve 
the disaster. Two horses were shot beneath him, and four bullets 
passed through his coat. It is one of the legemds of the day, thai 
an Indian sharpshooter declared that Washington bore a charmed 
life ; that he took direct aim at him several times, at the distance 
of but a few paces, and that the bullets seemed either to vanish 
into air, or to glance harmless from his body. Eight hundred of 
Braddock's army, including most of the officers, were now either 
dead or wounded. 

Washington rallied around him the few provincials upon whom 
Braddock had looked with contempt. Each man instantly placed 
himself behind a tree, according to the necessities of forest war- 
fare. As the Indians were bursting from their ambush, with tom- 
ahawk and scalping-knife, to complete the massacre, the unerring 
fire of these provincials checked them, and drove them back. But 
for this, the army would have been utterly destroyed. All Wash- 
ington's endeavors to rally the British regulars were unavailing. 
Indignantly he writes, " They ran like sheep before the hounds." 
Panic-stricken, abandoning artillery and baggage, they continued 
their tumultuous retreat to the Atlantic coast. The provincials, 
in orderly march, protected them from pursuit. Braddock's defeat 
rang through the land as Washington's victory. The provincials, 
who in silent exasperation, submitting to military authority, had 
allowed themselves to be led into this valley of death, proclaimed 
far and wide the cautions which Washington had urged, and the 
heroism with which he had rescued the remnant of the army. 
After the lapse of eighty years, a seal of Washington, containing 
his initials, which had been shot from his person, was found upon 
the battle-field, and is at the present time in possession of one of 
the family. 

The state of things in Virginia was now awful. The savages, 
exultant, having lapped blood, had all their woltish natures roused 
to the most intense excitement. War was with them pastime, and 
the only field of renown. Advancing civilization, penetrating the 
forests, had scattered its villages and secluded farm-houses along 
a frontier of nearly four hundred miles. It is one of the mysteries 
of God's providential government, which no finite mind can fathom, 
that he could have allowed such horrors. No imagination ^aD 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. . 2't 

picture them. Midnight conflagration, torture and outrage in 
every form which fiends could devise, became the amusement oi 
bands of howling savages, who came and went like the wind. 

Fifteen hundred demons, calling themselves Indian braves, in 
gangs of sometimes but eight or ten, and again of several hundred, 
swept the frontier, making themselves merry with the shrinks of 
their victims, and showing no mercy to mothers or maidens or 
iielpless infancy. The French made no attempt to pursue their 
advantage, but quietly retired to Fort Duquesne, there to await 
another assault, should the English decide to make one. 

A force nominally of two thousand men, but in reality of but 
about seven hundred, was raised, and placed under the command 
of Washington, to protect the scattered villages and dwellings of 
this vast frontier. For three years, Washington consecrated all 
his energies to this arduous and holy enterprise. It would require 
a volume to record the wonderful and awful scenes through which 
he passed during these three years. In after-life, Washington 
could not endure to recall the spectacles of suffering which he 
witnessed, and which he could not alleviate. At the time, he wrote 
to the governor, — 

" The supplicating tears of the women, and moving petitions of 
the men, melt me into such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly declare 
1 could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, 
could that contribute to the people's ease." 

One day, as Washington, with a small portion of his troops, was 
traversing a part of the frontier, he came upon a single log-house. 
It was in a little clearing which the settler had made by his axe, and 
which was surrounded on all sides by the forest. As they were 
approaching the clearing, they heard the sound of a gun. Appre- 
hending some scene of violence and horror, they crept cautiously 
through the underbrush until they came in sight of the settler's 
cabin. Smoke was curling up through the roof, while a party of 
savages were rioting around, laden with plunder, and flourishing 
dripping scalps. Upon the appearance of the soldiers, the savages, 
with the fleetness of deer, dashed into the forest. Washington 
thus describes the scene which met their eyes : — 

" On entering, we saw a sight, that, though we were familiar with 
blood and massacre, struck us, at least myself, with feelings more 
mournful than I had ever experienced before. On the bed, in one 
corner of the room, lay the budy of a young woman, swimming in 



28 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

blood, with a gash in her forehead which almost separated the 
head into two parts. On her breast lay two little babes, appar- 
ently twins, less than a twelvemonth old, with their heads also cut 
open. Their innocent blood, which once flowed in the same veins, 
now mingled in one current again. I was inured to scenes oi' 
bloodshed and misery; but this cut me to the souL Never in my 
after-life did I raise my hand against a savage, without calling to 
mind the mother with her little twins, their heads cleft asunder." 

Eagerly the soldiers followed in the trail of the savages. They 
had gone but a few steps ere they found a little boy and his father, 
who had been working in the fields, both dead and scalped. The 
father had been ploughing, and the boy was driving the horse. 
When the father was shot down, the terrified boy had run some 
distance towards his home ere he was overtaken and murdered. 
Thus the whole family was swept away. Such were then the 
perils of life on the frontier. No home was safe. The inmates of 
every cabin were liable, at midnight, to be roused by the yell 
of the savage; and, while the torch was applied to the dwelling, the 
tomahawk would sink into the brain. Washington writes, — 

" On leaving one spot -for the protection of another point of 
exposure, the scene was often such as I shall never forget. The 
women and children clung round our knees, beseeching us to stay 
and protect them, and crying out to us, for God's sake, not to leave 
them to be butchered by the savages. A hundred times, I declare 
to Heaven, I would have laid down my life with pleasure, even 
under the tomahawk ;jid scalping-knife, could I have insured the 
safety of those suffering people by the sacrifice." 

In November, 1758, Fort Duquesne was wrested from the 
Trench, and the Valley of the Ohio passed from their control for- 
ever. The Canadas soon after surrendered to Wolfe, and English 
supremacy was established upon this continent without a rival. 
Washington was now twenty-six years of age. The beautiful 
estate of Mount Vernon had descended to him by inheritance. 
On the 6th of January, 1759, he married Mrs. Martha Custis, a 
lady of great worth and beauty. Washington was already 
wealthy ; and his wife brought with her, as her dower, a fortune of 
one hundred thousand dollars. After the marvellously tumultu- 
ous scenes of his youth, he retired with his bride and her two 
children to the lovely retreat of Mount Vernon, where he spent 
fifteen years of almost unalloyed happiness. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. *^fi 

Ho enlarged the mansion, embellished the grounds, and by pui 
chase made very considerable additions to his large estate. The 
stern discipline of life had subdued his passions. His habits were 
frugal, temperate, and methodical. His imposing mansion, the 
abode of a generous hospitality, was visited by the most distin- 
guished men from all lands. Though a strict disciplinarian, ho 
was a considerate and indulgent master. It was his invariable 
rule to retire to rest at nine o'clock, Avhcther he had company or 
not. He rose at four o'clock in the morning. The religious inter- 
ests of the little community around him deeply engaged his attcL* 
tion, and the gospel ministry received from him very efficient sup- 
port. The following letter, which he wrote to a nephew Avho was 
chosen to the legislative assembly, contains admirable advice, and 
is an interesting development of his own character : — 

" If you have a mind to command the attention of the house, 
speak seldom, but on important subjects. Make yourself perfectly 
master of the subject. Never exceed a decent warmth ; and sub- 
mit your sentiments with diffidence. A dictatorial style, though it 
may carry conviction, is always accompanied with disgust." 

At Mount Vernon, "Washington's occupation was that of a large 
planter, raising wheat and tobacco. The wheat was ground upon 
the estate, and shipped for sale. The tobacco was sent to Eng- 
land ; from which country then almost every article of domestic 
use was imported. This splendid estate consisted of eight thou- 
sand acres, four thousand of which were in tillage : the remainder 
was in Avood or uncultivated land. During these serene years 
of peace and prosperity an appalling storm was gathering, which 
soon burst Avith fearful desolation over all the colonies. 

We now come down to the notable year 1775. The British 
ministry, denying the colonists the rights of British subjects, 
insisted upon exercising the despotic power of imposing taxes 
upon the colonists, while withholding the right of representation. 
All American remonstrances were thrown back with scorn. Hire- 
ling soldiers were insultingly sent to enforce obedience to the 
mandates of the British crown. The Americans sprang to arms, 
called a Congress, and chose George Washington commander-in- 
chief. A more perilous post man never accepted. The whole 
population of the United States then did not exceed three mil- 
lions ; being almost a million less than the present population of 
the single State of New York. England was the undisputed mis* 



so LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

tress of the seas, and the strongest military power upon the globe. 
The little handful of colonists, who stepped forth to meet this 
roTiafrirKdeadly conflict, had neither fleet, army, military re- 
sources, nor^pphes. The odds were so fearful, that it seems row 
strange that any courage could have met the encounter. 

Defeat to Washington would prove not merely ruin, but inevita- 
bly an ignominious death upon the scafibld. Sublimely he stepped 
l.)rward from his home of opulence and domestic joy, and accepted 
all the responsibilities of the post. The green in Lexington had 
already been crimsoned with the blood of patriots, and the battle 
of Bunker's Hill had rolled its echoes through Christendom. To a 
friend in England, Washington wrote, — 

" The Americans will fight for their liberties and property. 
Unhappy it is, though, to reflect that a brother's sword has been 
sheathed in a brother's breast, and that the once happy and peace- 
ful plains of America are either to be drenched in blood or to be 
inhabited by slaves. Strange alternative ! But can a virtuous 
man hesitate in his choice ? " 

To the Congress which elected him commander-in-chief of the 
American forces, he replied, — 

" I beg leave to assure the Congress, that, as no pecuniary con- 
sideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employ- 
ment at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not 
wish to make any profit from it. I will keep an exact account of 
my expenses. Those, I doubt not, they will discharge. That is 
all I desire." 

To his wife, who was ever the object of his most respectful 
regard and tender affection, he wrote that it was his greatest 
affliction to be separated from her, but that duty called, and he 
must obey. He said that he could not decline the appointment 
without dishonoring his name, and sinking himself even in her 
esteem. 

Twelve thousand British regulars were then intrenched on 
Bunker's Hill and in the streets of Boston. About fifteen thou 
sand provincial militia, wretchedly armed, and without any disci- 
pline, occupied a line nearly twelve miles in extent, encircling, on 
the land side, Charlestown and Boston. The British war-ships 
held undisputed possession of the harbor. These veterans could, 
apparently with ease, at any time, pierce the thin patriot line. 

It requires long discipline to transform a man, just taken from 



GEORGE WASniNGTON. 31 

the endearments of home, into merely a part of that obedient, uq 
questioning machine called an army. A thousand trained soldiers 
are ever regarded as equal in military power to three or four timeq 
that number fresh from the pursuits of peaceful life. The British 
had opened fire at Lexington on the 19th of April, 1775. On the 
2d of July, Washington arrived in Cambridge, and took command 
of the army. The ceremony took place under the elm-tree which 
still stands immortalized by the event. Gen. Gage was com. 
mander of the British forces. He had been the friend of Wasli- 
ington during the seven-years' war, and had fought by his side at 
the time of Braddock's defeat; and yet this Gen. Gage seized 
every patriot upon whom he could lay his hands in Boston, and 
threw them all, without regard to station or rank, into loathsome 
dungeons. To Gen. "Washington's remonstrance against such bar- 
barity, he returned the insolent reply, — 

" My clemency is great in sparing the lives of those who, by the 
laws of the land, are destined to the cord. I recognize no differ- 
ence of rank but that which the king confers." 

Washington at first resolved to retaliate upon the English pris- 
oners. But his generous nature recoiled from the inhumanity of 
punishing the innocent for the crimes of the guilty. He counter- 
manded the order, directing that the prisoners should be treated 
with all the humanity consistent with their security. In the sub- 
sequent and more successful war which the British Government 
waged against popular rights in Europe, they practised the same 
inhumanity. The French prisoners were thrown into hulks, and 
perished miserably by thousands. Napoleon, like Wasliington, re- 
fused to retaliate upon the helpless captives in his hands for the 
infamous conduct of their government. 

At length, after surmounting difficulties more than can be enu- 
merated, Washington was prepared for decisive action. In a dark 
and stormy night of March, he opened upon the foe, in the city, 
from his encircling lines, as fierce a bombardment as his means 
would possibly allow. Under cover of this roar of the batteries 
und the midnight storm, he despatched a large force of picked 
troops, with the utmost secrecy, to take possession of the Heights 
of Dorchester. There, during the hours of the night, the soldiers 
worked, with the utmost diligence, in throwing up breastworks 
which would protect them from the broadsides of the English 
lieot. Having established his batteries upon those heights, he 



32 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

commanded the harbor; and the English would be compelled to 
withdraw, or he would blow their fleet into the air. 

In the early dawn of the morning, while the gale swept sheeta 
of mist, and floods of rain, over earth and sea, the British admiral 
saw, to his consternation, that a fort bristling with cannon had 
sprung up, during the night, almost over his head. He imme- 
diately opened upon the works the broadsides of all his ships; 
but the Americans, defiant of the storm of iron which fell around 
them, continued to pile their sand-bags, and to ply their shovels, 
until ramparts so strong I'ose around them, that no cannonade 
could injure them. The British fleet was now at the mercy of 
Washington's batteries. In a sj)irit almost of desperation, the ad- 
miral ordered three thousand men in boats to land, and take the 
heights at every hazard. God came to the aid of the colonists. 
The gale increased to such fury, that not a boat could be launched. 
Before another day and night had passed, the redoubt could defy 
any attack. 

The situation of the two parties was now very singular. The 
British fleet was at the mercy of the Americans : Boston was 
at the mercy of the English. " If you fire upon the fleet," 
said Gen. Howe, " I will burn the city." — " If you harm the 
city," said Washington, " I will sink your fleet." By a tacit un- 
derstanding, the English were permitted to retire unharmed, if 
they left the city uninjured. 

It was the morning of the ITth of March, 1776. The storm 
had passed away. The blue sky overarched the beleaguered city 
and the encamping armies. Washington sat upon his horse, 
serene and majestic, and contemplated in silent triumph, from the 
Heights of Dorchester, the evacuation of Boston. Every gun of 
his batteries was shotted, and aimed at the hostile fleet. Every 
torch was lighted. The whole British army was crowded on 
board the ships. A fresh breeze from the west filled their sails; 
and the hostile armament, before the sun went down, had disap- 
peared bej'-ond the distant horizon of the sea. As the last boats, 
loaded to the gunwales with British soldiers, left the shore for the 
fleet, the exultant colonial army, with music and banners, marched 
over the Neck into the rejoicing city. It was a glorious victory, 
won by genius without the eff"usion of blood. Such another case, 
perhaps, history does not record. Washington, ivithout ammuni- 
tion, had maintained his post for six months within musket-shot 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 33 

of a powerful British army. During this time he had disbanded 
the small force of raw militia he at first had with him, and had 
recruited another army ; and had then driven the enemy into his 
ships, and out into the sea. 

The British, thus expelled from Boston, gathered their strength 
of fleets and armies for an attack upon New York. The Congress, 
assembled in Philadelphia, which at first sought only the red; ess 
of grievances, now resolved to strike for independence. A com- 
mittee was appointed, of which Thomas Jefferson was chairman, 
to draft a Declaration. The committee presented this immortal 
document to Congress, and it was unanimously adopted. History 
has recorded no spectacle more sublime than tliat which was 
witnessed as the members of the Continental Congress came for- 
ward, each one in his turn, to sign that paper, which would be 
his inevitable death-warrant should the arms of America fail. 
Not one faltered. Every individual pledged to this sacred cause 
" his life, his fortune, and his sacred honor." It was the 4th of 
July, 1776. 

This Declaration was read from the steps of the State House 
in Philadelphia to an immense concourse, and it was received 
with bursts of enthusiasm. It was sent to Gen. Washington 
to be communicated to the army, which he had now assembled 
in the vicinity of New York. The regiments were paradea to 
hear it read. It was greeted with tumultuous applause. The 
troops thus defiantly threw back the epithet of " rebellious colo- 
nists," and assumed the proud title of " The Army of the United 
States." Gen. Washington, in an order of the day, thus alludes 
to this momentous occurrence : — 

" The general hopes that this important event will serve as a 
fresh incentive to every officer and soldier to act with fidelity and 
courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of his country 
depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms, and that 
lio is now in the service of a State possessed of sufficient power 
to reward his merit, and advance him to the highest honors of a 
free country." 

The latter part of June, just before the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, two large British fleets, one from Halifax and the 
other direct from England, met at the mouth of the Bay o:' New 
York, and, disembarking quite a powerful army, took possession 
of Staten Island. Washington had assembled aU his availabla 

6 



34 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

military force to resist their advances. The Britisli Governmenl 
regarded the leaders of the armies, and their supporters in Con- 
gress, as felons, doomed to the scaffold. They refused, conse- 
quently, to recognize any titles conferred by Congressional an. 
thority. 

Gen. Howe sent a flag of truce, with a letter, directed to 
George Washington, Esq. The letter was returned unopened. 
A.S occasional intercourse between the generals of the two armies 
was of very great moment, to regulate questions respecting the 
treatment of prisoners and other matters, Gen. Howe, notwith- 
standing this merited repulse, wrote again, but insultingly, to 
the same address. Again the letter was returned unopened, 
and with the emphatic announcement, that the commander-in- 
chief of the American army could receive no communication from 
Gen. Howe which did not recognize his military position. The 
British officer then sent a letter, insolently addressed to George 
Washington, Esq., &c., &c., &c. This letter was also refused. 
A communication was then sent to Gen. George Washington. 

Thus were the members of the British cabinet in London disci 
plined into civility. Gen. Howe frankly confessed that he had 
adopted this discourteous style of address simply to save himself 
from censure by the home government. Washington, writing to 
Congress upon this subject, says, — 

" I would not, on any occasion, sacrifice essentials to punctilio ; 
but, in this instance, I deemed it my duty to my country, and to 
my appointment, to insist upon that respect, which, in any other 
than a pubhc view, I would willingly have waived." 

Gen. Washington, a gentleman and a Christian, was exceed- 
ingly pained by that vulgar and wicked habit of profane swearing 
which was so prevalent among the troops. We have already 
alluded to his abhorrence of this vice. In August, 1776, he issued 
the following notice to his army at New York : — 

" The general is sorry to be informed that the foolish and pro- 
fane practice of cursing and swearing, a vice hitherto little known 
in an American army, is growing into fashion. He hopes that the 
oflicers will, by example as well as by influence, endeavor to 
check it, and that both they and the men will reflect that wo 
can have little hope of the blessing of Heaven on our aims if we 
insult it by our impiety and folly. Add to this, it is a vice so 
mean and low, without any temptation, that every man of sense 
and character detests and despises it," 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 35 

Just before this, he had written to Congress, earnestly soliciting 
chaplains for the army. In this plea he writes, " The blessing 
and protection of Heaven are at all times necessary, but especially 
so in times of public distress and danger. The general hopes 
an 1 trusts that every officer and man will endeavor to live and act 
as becomes a Christian soldier.'' 

By the middle of August, the British had assembled, on Staten 
fslond and at the mouth of the Hudson River, a force of nearly 
thirty thousand soldiers, Avith a numerous and well-equipped fleet. 
To oppose them, Washington had about twelve thousand men, 
poorly armed, and quite unaccustomed to military discipline and 
to the hardships of the camp. A few regiments of American 
troops, about five thousand in number, were gathered near Brook- 
lyn. A few thousand more were stationed at other points on Long 
Island. The English landed without opposition, fifteen thousand 
strong, and made a combined assault upon the Americans. The 
battle was short, but bloody. The Americans, overpowered, sul- 
lenly retired, leaving fifteen hundred of their number either dead 
or in the hands of the English. Washington witnessed this rout 
with the keenest anguish ; for he could not detach any troops from 
New York to arrest the carnage. 

To remain upon the island was certain destruction; to attempt 
to retreat was difficult and perilous in the extreme. The East 
River flowed deep and wide between the few troops on the island 
and their friends in New York. The British fleet had already 
weighed anchor, and was sailing up the Narrows to cut off their 
retreat. A vastly superior force of well-trained British troops, 
flushed with victory, pressed upon the rear of the dispirited colo- 
nists. Their situation seemed desperate. 

Again Providence came to our aid. The wind died away to a 
perfect calm, so that the British fleet could not move. A dense 
fog was rolled in from the ocean, which settled down so thick 
upon land and river, that, with the gathering darkness of the night, 
one's outstretched hand could scarcely be seen. The English, 
strangers to the country, and fearing some surprise, could only 
stand upon the defensive. The Americans, familiar with every 
foot of the ground, improved the propitious moments with ener- 
gies roused to their highest tension. Boats were rapidly collected ; 
and, in the few hours of that black night, nine thousand men, with 
nearly all their artillery and military stores, were safely landed in 



86 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

New York. The transportation was conducted so secretly, with 
muffled oars and hushed voices, that though the Americans could 
hear the English at work with their pickaxes, and were even 
within hearing of the challenge of the hostile sentinels, the last 
boat had left the Long Island shore ere the retreat was suspected. 
God does not always help the "heavy battalions." 

The British noAV presented themselves in such force, of both 
fleet and army, that Washington, with his feeble and dispirited 
band, was compelled to evacuate the city. A rash and headstrong 
man would have been goaded to desperation, and would have 
risked a general engagement, which, in all probability, would have 
secured our inevitable ruin. A man easily depressed by adversity 
would, in hours apparently so hopeless, have abandoned the cause. 
Washington wrote to Congress, — 

" Our situation is truly distressing. The check our detachment 
received has dispirited too great a proportion of our troops, and 
filled their minds with apprehension and despair. The militia, 
. instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly 
opposition in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, 
and impatient to return to their homes." 

The American army was now in a deplorable condition. It had 
neither arms, ammunition, nor food. The soldiers were unpaid, 
almost mutinous, and in rags. There were thousands in the 
vicinity of New York who were in sympathy with the British 
ministry. Nearly all the government officials and their friendsii 
were on that side. A conspiracy was formed, in which a part of 
Washington's own guard Avas implicated, to seize him, and deliver 
him to that ignominious death to which the British crown had 
doomed him. We were then, not a nation, but merely a confed- 
eracy of independent colonies. There was no bond of union, no 
unity of counsel, no concentration of effort. Each colon}'' fur- 
nished such resources as it found to be convenient, or withheld 
them at its sovereign pleasure. England's omnipotent fleet swept, 
unobstructed, ocean and river and bay. Her well-drilled armies, 
supplied with the most powerful weapons and strengthened with 
all abundance, tramped contemptuously over the land, scattering 
our militia before them, burning and destroying in all directions. 
Gen. Howe, despising his foe, and confident that the colonists 
could present no effectual resistance to his powerful army, issued 
his proclamations, offering pardon to all who would bow the neck 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 37 

\n unquestioning obedience to the dictation of the British king, 
excepting only Washington, Franklin, and a few others of the most 
illustrious of the patriots. 

Washington was equal to the crisis. He saw that the only hope 
was to be found in avoiding an engagement, and in wearing out 
the resources of the enemy in protracted campaigns. To adopt 
this course required great moral courage and self-sacrifice. To 
1 usji madly into the conflict, and sell life as deaily as possible, 
required mere ordinary ds^ring. Thousands could be found capa- 
ble of this. Animal courage is the cheapestof all virtues. The most 
effeminate races on the globe, by a few months of suitable drilling, 
can be converted into heroic soldiers, laughing lead and iron and 
steel to scorn. But to conduct an army persistently through cam- 
paigns of inevitable defeat; ever to refuse a battle; to meet the 
enemy only to retire before him ; to encounter silently the insults 
and scorn of the foe ; to be denounced by friends for incapacity 
and cowardice ; and, while at the head of a mere handful of 
ragged and unfurnished troops, to be compelled, in order to save 
that little handful from destruction, to allow the country as well 
as the onemy to believe that one has a splendid army, splendidly 
equipped, — this requires a degree of moral courage and an amount 
of heroic virtue, which, thus far in the history of this world, has 
been developed only in George Washington. 

America had many able generals ; but it may be doubted 
whethei there was another man on this continent who could have 
conduc ted the unequal struggle of the American Revolution to a 
successful issue. Washington slowly retired from New York to 
the Heights of Haarlem, with sleepless vigilance watching every 
movement of the foe, that he might take advantage of the slight- 
est indiscretion. Here he threw up breastworks, which the enemy 
did not venture to attack. The British troops ascended the Hud- 
son and the East River to assail Washington in his rear. A weary 
campaign of marches and countermarches ensued, in which Wash- 
ington, with scarcely the shadow of an army, sustained, in the 
midst of a constant succession of disasters, the apparently hope- 
less fortunes of his country. At one time General Reed in anguish 
exclaimed, — 

"My God ! Gen. Washington, how long shall we fly ?" 

Serenely Gen. Washington replied, ''We shall retreat, if 
necessary, over every river of our country, and then over the 



38 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

mountains, where I will make a last stand against our ene 
mies." 

Washington crossed the Hudson into the Jerseys. The British 
pursued him. With consummate skill, he baflSed all the efforts of 
the foe. With an army reduced to a freezing, starving band of 
but three thousand men, he retreated to Trenton. The British 
pressed exultantly on, deeming the conflict ended and the revolu 
tion crushed. The Congress in Philadelphia, alarmed by the 
rapid approach of the foe, hastily adjourned to Baltimore. It was 
December, with its wintry gales, and frozen ground, and storms of 
sleet. The " strong battalions " of the foe tracked the patriots by 
the blood of their lacerated feet. With great difficulty. Washing- 
ton succeeded in crossing the Delaware in boats, just as the 
British army, in all its pride and power, with horsemen, infantry- 
men, banners, music, and ponderous artillery, arrived upon the 
banks of the stream. Nearly all of New Jersey was now in the 
hands of the British. They needed but to cross the river 
to take possession of Philadelphia. The ice was now so rapidl}'' 
forming, that they would soon be able to pass at any point 
without obstruction. The enemy, with apparently nothing to fear, 
relaxed his vigilance. The British officers, welcomed by the 
Tories in the large towns, Avere amusing themselves with feasting 
and dancing, until the blocks of ice, sweeping down the stream, 
should be consolidated into a firm foothold. 

The night of the 25th of December, 1776, was very dark, and 
intensely cold. A storm of wind and snow raged so violently, that 
both man and beast were forced to seek shelter. The British 
officers and soldiers, considering the patriots utterly dispersed, 
and that a broad, deep, icy river flowed between them and the 
retreating American bands, gathered around the firesides. In the 
darkness of that wintry night, and amidst the conflict of its ele- 
ments, Washington re-embarked his troops to recross the Dela- 
ware, and to plunge with all his strength into the midst of the 
unsuspecting foe. 

In this heroic deed there were combined the highest daring and 
prudence. Facing the storm, and forcing his boats through the 
floating blocks of ice, he succeeded, before daylight the next 
morning, in landing upon the opposite shore twenty-four hundred 
men and twenty pieces of cannon. The British were carelessly 
dispersed, not dreaming of danger. The Americans sprang upoD 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 39 

the first body of the foe they met, and, after a short but bloody 
strife, scattered them, capturing a thousand prisoner's and six 
cannon. Elated with this success, which astounded and humbled 
the foe, the American troops recrossed tha river, and gained their 
encampment in safety. The British were so alarmed by this in- 
dication of vitality in the American army, that they retreated to 
Pvinceton, and Washington took possession of Trenton. Soon the 
foe, under Lord Cornwallis, having received large re-enforcements, 
marched upon Trenton, confident that Gen. Washington could 
no longer escape them. It was at the close of a bleak, winter's day 
that Cornwallis with his army appeared before the lines which 
Washington had thrown up around Trenton. Sir William Erskine 
urged the British commander to make an immediate attack. 
Cornwallis replied, — 

" Our troops are hungry and weary. Washington and his tat 
terdemalions cannot escape ; for the ice of the Delaware will 
neither bear their weight, nor admit the passage of their boats. 
To-morrow, at the break of day, I will attack them. The rising 
sun shall see the end of the rebellion." 

The sun rose the next morning, cold but cloudless. In the night, 
the American army had vanished. Solitude reigned along those 
lines, which, the evening before, had been crowded with the ranks 
of war. Replenishing his camp-fires to deceive the enemy, at mid- 
night, with the utmost precaution and precipitation, he evacuated 
his camp, and, by a circuitous route, fell upon the rear of the Eng- 
lish at Princeton. The sun was just rising as Washington's troops 
plunged upon the foe in this totally unexpected onset. A hundred 
and sixty of the British were shot down, and three hundred 
Avere taken prisoners. 

While this event was taking place at Princeton, Lord Cornwallis 
stood upon an eminence, gazing in astonishment upon the deserted 
and waning fires of the Americans. Quite bewildered, he pressed 
his hand to his brow, exclaiming, " Where can Washington be 
gone?" Just then, the heavy booming of the battle at Princeton 
fell upon his ear. ''There he is !" he added. "By Jove! Washing- 
ton deserves to fight in the cause of his king." Cheered by this 
success, Washington led his handful of troops to the Heights of 
Morristown. There he intrenched them for winter-quarters. He, 
however, sent out frequent detachments, which so harassed the 
enemy, that, in a short time. New Jersey was delivered from the 



40 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

presence of the foe. The country became somewhat animated bj 
these achievements, and Congress roused itself to new energies. 

Washington, as we have said, was an earnest Christian. When 
the army was in the environs of Morristown, N. J., the communion* 
service was to be administered in the Presbyterian church of the 
village. Gen. Washington called upon Rev. Dr. Jones, then pas- 
tor of the church, and said to him, "Doctor, I understand that the' 
Lord's supper is to be celebrated with you next Sunday. I would 
learn if it accords with the rules of your church to admit commu- 
nicants of other denominations ? " 

" Certainly," was the reply. " Ours is not the Presbyterian 
table, general, but the Lord's table ; and we give the Lord's invi- 
tation to all his followers, of whatever name." 

" I am glad of it," the general replied. " That is as it ought to 
be. But, as I was not quite sure of the fact, I thought I would 
ascertain it from yourself, as I propose to join with you on that 
occasion. Though a member of the Church of England, I have no 
exclusive partialities." 

The doctor re-assured him of a cordial welcome, and the gen- 
eral was found seated with the communicants next sabbath. 

During the remainder of the winter, vigorous efforts were made 
in preparation for the opening of the spring campaign. The dif- 
ferent States sent troops to join the army at Morristown. The 
people of France, in cordial sympathy with our cause, sent two 
vessels, containing twenty-four thousand muskets, to Gen. Wash- 
ington. Immense embarrassments were, however, continually 
experienced, from the fact that we were not a nation, but a mere 
conglomeration of independent States. Each State decided for 
itself the pay it would ofler to the troops. Each State claimed 
the right to withhold an}'- portion of its troops for its own security, 
however much they might be needed for the general service. It 
was these difficulties of the old confederacy which induced " the 
people of the United States " to form themselves into a nation, 
with certain clearly defined rights reserved for the individual 
States. 

The sympathy excited in behalf of our cause in France was of 
invaluable service to us. The Marquis de Lafayette left his man- 
sion of opulence, and his youthful bride, to peril his life in the 
cause of American independence. The British officers, harasseci 
by Washington's sleepless vigilance, and yet unable to compel him 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 41 

or to lure him into a general engagement, ascended the Delaware 
in a fleet, with eighteen thousand soldiers, to capture Philadelphia. 
They landed near Elkton, at the head of Chesapeake Bay. Wash- 
hjgton, with but eleven thousand men, marched to encounter them. 
The two hot:tile bodies met on the banks of the Brandywine. A 
bloody battle ensued. Lafayette was wounded. The Americans, 
overpowered, were compelled to retire. With unbroken ranks, 
and determination still unflinching, they retired upon Philadelphia. 

Congress had now invested Washington with nearly dictatoiial 
powers, and the whole country approved of the act. In Philadel- 
phia, the army was rapidly recruited; and, before the British had 
recovered from the blows which they received at the Brandywine, 
Washington was again upon the march to meet them. It was so 
important to save Philadelphia from the enemy, that he resolved 
to hazard another battle. The two forces again met, about twenty- 
three miles from the city. Just as the battle commenced, a storm 
arose, so violent, and with such floods of rain, that neither army 
could long pursue the contest. Washington, after a short but 
severe engagement at Germantown, retired with his ammunition 
spoiled, and the British took possession of Philadelphia. 

Congress precipita'.ely adjourned to Lancaster, and thence to 
York. For eight months, the English held the city. Various 
petty battles ensued, some of them quite sanguinary, but none 
'eading to any important results. The Americans were, however, 
acquiring experience, and continually gaining new courage. The 
surrender of Burgoyne, which occurred about this time at Sara- 
toga, rolled a surge of exultation through all the States. 

Winter again came. The British were comfortably housed in 
Philadelphia, \\\ the enjoyment of every luxury. Washington 
selected Valley Forge, about twenty miles from Philadelphia, as 
his secure retreat for winter-quarters. The soldiers commenced 
rearing their log-huts here the latter part of December. Each 
hut was fourteen feet by sixteen, and accommodated twelve sol- 
diers. The encampment, which was well protected by earthworks, 
presented the aspect of a very picturesque city, with neatly 
arranged streets and avenues. Eleven thousand men here passed 
the winter of 1777 and 1778. It was a period of great discour- 
agement and suff'ering. The army was destitute of food, clothing, 
arms, and powder, — in a state of destitution which Washington 
did not dare to proclaim abroad, lest the foe should rush upon him 



42 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

in Lis helplessness. The commander-in-chief was assj-iled wiih 
terrible severity for this inaction. Though Washington felt these 
reproaches keenly, he endured them all with that external im- 
perturbability of spirit which so wonderfully characterized hiir 
throughout all the conflict. He wrote to Mr. Laurens, President 
of Congress, — 

'•■ My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They 
know tlie delicacy of my situation, and that motives of pohcy 
dopriN e me of the defence I might otherwise make against their 
insidious attacks. They know I cannot combat their insinuations, 
however injurious, without disclosing secrets it is of the utmost 
moment to conceal. But why should I expect to be exempt fron 
censure, the unfailing lot of an elevated station ? Merit and 
talent, which I cannot pretend to rival, have ever been subject 
to it." 

It was in this dark hour of our struggle that France generously 
came forward to our aid ; recognizing our independence, enter- 
ing into a friendly alliance with us, and sending both a fleet and 
an army to our support. But for this efficient assistance, it is 
scarcely possible that our independence could then have been 
achieved. The tidings of the French alliance were received at 
Valley Forge with unutterable joy. The most dishonorable means 
were now taken by our enemies to paralyze the influence of Wash- 
ington by destroying his reputation. A pamphlet was published 
in London, and scattered widely throughout the States, containing 
forged letters, purporting to be private letters from Washington 
to his wife, found in a portmanteau taken from a servant of Wash- 
ington after the evacuation of Fort Lee. 

The forgflry was skilfully got up. The letters denounced Con- 
gress for madness in declaring independence, and contained many 
expressions, which, if true, proved Washington to be totally unfit 
to be in command of the American armies. But fortunately the 
reputation of the commander-in-chief was too firmly established 
in this country to be thus demolished. The British army now in 
New York and Philadelphia amounted to thirty thousand men. 
The whole American army did not exceed fifteen thousand. But 
the alliance with France gave us the assurance that re-enforce- 
ments would soon come to our aid. The British, apprehensive 
that a French fleet might soon appear, and thus endanger the 
troops in Philadelphia, evacuated the city, and sent their heavy 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 43 

material of war to New York by water, while tlie troops com- 
menced their march through New Jersey. The cold of winter 
had given place to the heat of summer. 

Washington followed closely in the rear of the foe, watching 
for a chance to strike. The 28th of June, 1788, was a day of 
intense heat. Not a breath of air was stirring, while an unclouded 
sun poured down its blistering rays upon pursuers and pursued. 
The British ti'oops were at Monmouth. The march of one more 
day would so unite them with the army in New York, tliat they 
would be safe from attack. Washington ordered an assault. Gen. 
Lee, with five thousand men, was in the advance. Washington 
sent orders to him immediately to commence the onset, with the 
assurance that he would hasten to his support. As Washington 
was pressing eagerly forward, to his inexpressible chagrin he met 
Gen. Lee at the head of his troops, in full retreat. It is said that 
Washington, with great vehemence of manner and utterance, cried 
out, '' Gen. Lee, what means this ill-timed prudence?" The re- 
treating general threw back the angry retort, '' I know of no man 
blessed with a larger portion of that rascally virtue than your 
Excellency." 

It was no time for altercation. Washington turned to the men. 
They greeted him with cheers. At his command, they Avheeled 
about, and charged the enemy. A sanguinary battle ensued, and 
the English were driven from the field. Night closed the scene. 
The colonists slept upon their arms, prepared to renew the battle 
ill the morning, Washington, wrapping his cloak around him, 
threw himself upon the grass, and slept in the midst of his sol- 
diers. When the morning dawned, no foe was to be seen. The 
British had retreated in the night to the Heights of Middletown. 
They left three hundred of their dead behind them. The Ameri- 
cans lost but sixty nine. The British also lost one hundred in 
prisoners, and over six hundred had deserted from their ranks 
since they left Philadelphia. The English common soldiers had 
but little heart to fight against their brothers who were strug- 
gling for independence. At Middletown, the British embarked 
on board their ships, and were conveyed to New York. 

They had now inhumanly summoned the Indians to their aid. 
The tomahawk and the scalping-knife were mercilessly employed. 
Towns, villages, farm-Louses, were burned, and their inhabitants — 
men, women, and children — were massacred by savages, inspired 



44 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

with the furj of demons. The British ministry encouraged these 
atrocities. They said that rebellious America must be punished 
into submission ; and that, in inflictinjj this punishment, it was right 
to make use of all the instruments which God and Nature had 
placed in their hands. 

But it must not be forgotten that there were many noble Eng- 
lishmen who espoused our cause. Some of the ablest men in both 
the House of Commons and the House of Lords, and thousands 
throughout England, were in cordial sympathy with the colo- 
nists struggling for their rights. Instead of adopting the execra- 
ble sentiment, " Our country, right or wrong," they acted upon 
that noble maxim, " Our country, — when right, to be kept right ; 
when wrong, to be put right." Of these men, some pleaded for 
us at home, some aided us with their money and counsel, and 
some entered our ranks as officers and soldiers. Lord Chatham, in 
tones which echoed throughout the civilized world, exclaimed 
in the House of Lords, and at the very foot of the throne, " Were 
I an American, as I am an Englishman, I would never lay down 
my arms, — never, never, never ! " 

Another cold and cheerless winter came; and the American 
army went into winter-quarters mainly at West Point, on the 
Hudson. The British remained within their lines at New York. 
They sent agents, however, to the Six Nations of Indians, to arm 
them against our defenceless frontier. These fierce savages, 
accompanied by Tory bands, perpetrated horrors too awful for 
recital. The massacres of Cherry Valley and of Wyoming were 
among the most awful of the tragedies which have ever been wit- 
nessed on this globe. The narrative of these fiendish deeds sent 
a thrill of horror through England as well as America. Four 
thousand men were sent by Washington into the wilderness, to 
arrest, if possible, these massacres. The savages, and their still 
more guilty allies, were driven to Niagara, where they were re- 
ceived into an English fortress. 

The summer campaign opened with an indiscriminate devasta 
tion and plunder, pursued vigorously by the English. "A war of 
this sort," said Lord George Germain, " will probably induce the 
rebellious provinces to return to their allegiance." The British 
now concentrated their forces for an attank upon West Point, and 
to get the control of the upper waters of the Hudson. Washing- 
ton detected and thwarted their plan. Gen. Clinton, who waa 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 45 

then in command of the British forces, exasperated by this dis. 
comfitiire, commenced a more vigorous prosecution of a system 
of violence and plunder upon the defenceless towns and farm- 
houses of the Americans who were unprotected. The sky was 
reddened with wanton conflagration. Women and children were 
driven houseless into the fields. The flourishing towns of Fair- 
field and Korwalk, in Connecticut, were reduced to ashes. 

While the enemy was thus ravaging that defenceless State, 
Washington planned an expedition against Stony Point, on the 
Hudson, which was held by the British. Gen. Wayne conducted 
the enterprise, on the night of the 15th of July, with great gal- 
lantry and success. Sixty-three of the British were killed, five 
hundred and forty-three were taken prisoners, and all the military 
stores of the fortress captured. During this summer campaign, 
the American army was never sufficiently strong to take the offen- 
sive. It was, however, incessantly employed striking blows upon 
the English wherever the eagle eye of Washington could discern 
an exposed spot. 

The winter of 1779 set in early, and with unusual severity. 
The American army was in such a starving condition, that Wash- 
ington was compelled to make the utmost exertions to save his 
wasting band from annihilation. Incited by his urgent appeals, 
the colonics made new efforts to augment their forces for a more 
vigorous campaign in the spring. Cheering intelligence ari'ived 
that a land and naval force might soon be expected from our gen- 
erous friends the French. 

In July, twelve vessels of war arrived from France, with arms, 
ammunition, and five thousand soldiers. This squadron was, how- 
ever, immediately blockaded in Newport by a stronger British 
fleet ; and another expedition, which was about to sail from Brest, 
in France, was effectually shut up in that port. The war still raged 
in detachments, widely spread ; and conflagration, blood, and misery 
deluged our unhappy land. 

These long years of war and woe filled many even of the most 
sanguine hearts with despair. Not a few true patriots deemed it 
madness for the colonies, impoverished as they now were, any 
longer to contend against the richest and most powerful monarchy 
upon the globe. Gen. Arnold, who was at this time in command 
at West Point, saw no hope for his country. Believing the ship 
to be sinking, he ingloriously sought to take care of himself. He 



46 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

turned traitor, and offered to sell bis fortress to the English. The 
treason was detected : but the traitor escaped ; and the lamented 
Andre, who had been lured into the position of a spy, became the 
necessary victim of Arnold's crime. 

Lord Cornwallis was now, with a well-provided arm}^ and 
an assisting navy, overrunning the two Carolinas. Gen, Greene 
was sent, with all the force which Washington could spare, to 
watch and harass the invaders, and to furnish the inhabitants 
Avith all the protection in his power. Lafayette was in the vicin- 
ity of New York, with his eagle eye fixed upon the foe, ready to 
pounce upon any detachment which presented the slightest ex- 
posure. Washington was everywhere, with patriotism wlu'ch 
never flagged, with hope which never failed, cheering the army, 
animating the inhabitants, rousing Congress, and guiding with his 
well-balanced mind both military and civil legislation. Thus the 
dreary summer of 1780 lingered away in our war-scathed land. 

Again our heroic little army went into winter-quarters, mainly 
on the banks of the Hudson. As the spring of 1781 opened, the 
war was renewed. The British directed their chief attention to 
the South, which was far weaker than the North. Richmond, in 
Virginia, was laid in ashes ; and a general system of devastation 
and plunder prevailed. The enemy ascended the Chesapeake and 
the Potomac with armed vessels. They landed at Mount Vernon. 
The manager of the estate, to save the mansion from pillage and 
flames, furnished the legalized robbers with abundance of supplies. 
Washington was much displeased. He wrote to his agent, — 

" It would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have 
heard, that, in consequence of your non-compliance with their 
request, they had burned ra}' house, and laid the plantation in 
ruins. You ought to have considered yourself as my representa- 
tive, and should have reflected on the bad example of communi- 
cating with the enemy, and making a voluntary offer of refresh- 
ments to them, witli a view to prevent a conflagration." 

The prospects of the country were still very dark. On the 1st 
of May, 1781, Washington wrote, " Instead of magazines filled 
with provisions, we have a scanty pittance scattered here and 
there in the different States. Instead of arsenals well supplied, 
they are poorly provided, and the workmen all kiaving. Instead 
of having field-equipage in readiness, the quartermaster-general 
is but now applying to the several States to supply these things. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON: 47 

Instead of having the regiments completed, scarce any State has, 
at this hour, an eightli part of its quota in the field ; and there is 
little prospect of their ever getting more than half. In a word, 
instead of having every thing in readiness to take the field, we 
have nothing. Instead of having the prospect of a glorious offen- 
sive campaign, we have a gloomy and bewildering defensive one, 
unless we should receive a powerful aid of ships, land-ti'oops, and 
money, from our generous allies." 

The army had in fact, about this time, dwindled away to three 
thousand ; and the paper-money issued by Congress, with which 
the troops were paid, had become almost entirely valueless. Lord 
Cornwallis was now at Yorktown, in Virginia, but a few miles 
^rom Chesapeake Bay. There was no force in his vicinity seri- 
ously to annoy him. Washington resolved, in conjunction with 
our allies from France, to make a bold movement for his capture. 
He succeeded in deceiving the English into the belief that he Avas 
making great preparations for the siege of New York. Thus they 
were prevented from rendering any aid to Yorktown. 

By rapid marches, Washington hastened to encircle the foe. 
Early in September, Lord Cornwallis, as he arose one morning, was 
amazed to see, in the rays of the morning sun, the heights around 
him gleaming with the bayonets and the batteries of the Ameri- 
cans. At about the same hour, the French fleet appeared, in 
invincible strength, before the harbor. Cornwallis was caught. 
There was no escape ; there was no retreat. Neither by land 
nor by sea could he obtain any supplies. Shot and shell soon 
began to fall thickly into his despairing lines. Famine stared 
him in the face. After a few days of hopeless conflict, on the 
19th of October, 1781, he was compelled to surrender. Seven 
thousand British veterans laid down their arms to the victors. 
One hundred and sixty pieces of cannon, with corresponding 
military stores, graced the triumph. Without the assistance of 
our generous allies the French, we could not have gained this 
victory. Let not our gratitude be stinted or cold. 

When the British soldiers were marching from their intrench- 
raents to lay down their arms, Washington thus addressed his 
troops : " My brave fellows, let no sensation of satisfaction for 
the triumphs you have gained induce you to insult your fallen 
enemy. Let no shouting, no clamorous huzzaing, increase their 
naortilioation. Posterity will huzza for us." 



48 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

This glorious capture roused hope and vigor all over the 
country. The British cabinet became disheartened by our indom- 
itable perseverance. The darkness of the long night was passing 
away. The day after the capitulation, Washington devoutly 
issued the following order to the army: — 

" Divine service is to be performed to-morrow in the several 
brigades and divisions. The commander-in-chief earnestly rec- 
ommends that the troops not on duty shoidd universally attend, 
with that seriousness of deportment, and gratitude of heart, whicn 
the recognition of such reiterated and astonishing interpositions 
of Providence demands of us." 

The joyful tidings reached Philadelphia at midnight. A watch- 
man traversed the streets, shouting at intervals, "Past twelve 
o'clock, and a pleasant morning. Cornwallis is taken ! " 

These words rang upon the ear almost like the trump which 
wakes the dead. Candles were lighted ; windows thrown up ; 
figures in night-robes and night-caps bent eagerly out to catch 
the thrilling sound ; shouts were raised ; citizens rushed into the 
streets, half clad, — they wept ; they laughed. The news flew 
upon the wings of the wind, nobody can tell how ; and the shout 
of an enfranchised people rose, like a roar of thunder, from our 
whole land. With France for an ally, and with such a victory, the 
question -was now settled, and forever, that republican America 
would never again yield to the aristocratic government oi England. 

Though the fury of the storm was over, the billows of war had 
not yet subsided. Washington, late in November, 1781, again 
retired to winter-quarters. He urged Congress to make prepaia- 
tions for the vigorous prosecution of the war in the spring, as tho 
most effectual means of securing a speedy and an honorable peace. 
The conviction was now so general that the war was nearly at an 
end, that with difficulty ten thousand men were marshalled in the 
camp. The army, disheartened by the apparent inefficiency of 
Congress, — for Congress had really but very little power, being 
then only a collection of delegates from independent States, — very 
emphatically expressed the wish that Washington would assuiLe 
the supreme command of the government, and organize the coun- 
try into a constitutional kingdom, with himself at the head. 

But Washington was a republican. He believed that the peo- 
ple of this country, trained in the science of legislation, religious 
ia their habits, and intelligent, were abundantly capable of gov- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 49 

ernmg themselves. He repelled the suggestion promptly, aad 
almost indignantly. 

Early in May, the British cabinet opened negotiations for peace. 
Hostilitios Avere, by each party, tacitly laid aside. Negoiiations 
were protracted in Paris during the summer and the ensuing 
winter. Washington had established his headquarters at New- 
burg, on the Hudson, and was busy in consolidating the interests 
of our divided and distracted country. A government of repub- 
Hcan liberty, and yet of efficiency, was to be organizad ; and its 
construction required the highest energies of every thinking mind. 

It was also necessary to keep the army ever ready for battle ; 
for a new conflict miglit, at any moment, break out. Thus the 
summer and winter of 1782 passed away. 

The snow was still lingering in the laps of the Highlands when 
the joyful tidings arrived that a treaty of peace had been signed 
ut Paris. The intelligence was communicated to the American 
army on the 19th of April, 1783, — just eight years from the day 
when the conflict was commenced on the common at Lexington. 
England had, for eight years, deluged this land with blood and 
woe. Thousands had perished on the gory field of battle ; thou- 
sands had been beggared ; thousands had been made widows and 
orphans, i\cd doomed to a life-long wretchednei^s. It was the fear- 
ful price '/7hich America paid for independence. 

Late in November, the British evacuated New York, entered 
their ships, and sailed for their distant island. Washington, 
marching from West Point, entered the city as our vanquished 
foes departed. It was a joyful day, and no untoward incident 
marred its festivities. America was free and independent. 
Washington was the savior of his country. 

And now the day arrived when Washington was to take leave 
of his companions in arms, to retire to his beloved retreat at Mount 
Vernon. The affecting interview took place on the 4th of Decem- 
ber. Washington, with a flushed cheek and a swimming eye, 
entered the room where the principal officers of his army were 
assembled. His voice trembled with emotion as he said, — 

" With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of 
you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as pros- 
perous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and 
honorable. I cannot come to each of you tc take my leave, but 
shall be obliged if each of you will come and take me by the hand." 

7 



50 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



Aii unaccustomed cS Washington was to exhibit erjiotun, he 
was now cuite overcome. Tears blinded his eyes, ar.d he could 
say no more. One after anotner, the-se heroic men silently grasped 
his hand in this last parting. Not a word was spoken. It was a 
scene of those invisible strugglings of the spirit which the pen- 
c.'][ cannot picture, and which words cannot describe. Washington 
travelled slowly towards his beloved home at Mount Vernon, from 
which he had so long been absent. In every city and viliag'8 
through which he passed, he was greeted with love and veneralion. 
At Annapolis he met the Continental Congress, where he was to 
resign his commission. It was the 23d of December, 1783. All 
the members of Congress, and a large concourse of spectators, were 
present. His address was closed with the following words : — 

" Havirig now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the 
great Ibfatre of action ; and bidding an affectionate farewell to 
this august body, under wLos© orders I have so long acted, I hers 
offer my commission, and take mv leave of all the emoloynieiiLa 
of p'lbli? iife.'' 




MOUNT VKKNDN. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 51 

The next day, he returned to Mount Yernon. The following 
extract from a letter which he then wrote to Lafayette reveals 
those gentle and domestic traits of character which had been 
somewhat veiled by the stern duties of his military career : — 

" At length, I am become a private citizen : and under the 
shadow of my own vine and fig-tree, free from the bustle of a camp 
and the busy scenes of public life, I am solacing myself with those 
tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit 
of fame ; the statesman, whose watchful days and sleepless nights 
are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of his own, 
perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe were insuffi- 
cient for us all ; and the courtier, who is always watching tbo 
countenance of his prince, in hopes of catching a gracious smile, 
-— can have very little conception. Envious of none, I am deter- 
mined to be pleased with all. And this, my dear friend, being the 
order for my march, I will move gently down the strean?. of life 
until I sleep with my fathers." 

The great problem which now engrossed all minds was the con- 
solidation of the thirteen States of America in some way which 
should secure to the States certain reserved rights of local admin- 
istration ; while a nation should be formed, with a general govern- 
raen^, which could exert the energies of centralized power, and 
thus take its stand, the equal in efficiency, with the renowned 
kingdoms and empires of earth. The old confederacy, which was 
merely a conglomeration of independent States, had developed 
such utter weakness, that all thoughts were turned to the organi- 
zation of a government upon a difierent principle. 

To this subject, Washington, who had suffered so intensely from 
the inefficiency of the Continental Congress, devoted his moct 
anxious, attention. A convention was called to deliberate upon 
this momentous question. It assembled at Philadelphia in the 
year 1787. Washington was sent a delegate from Virginia, and, 
by unanimous vote, was placed in the president's chair. The 
result was the present Constitution of the United States ; which, 
njjecting a mere confederacy of independent States, created a 
nation from the people of all the States, with supreme powers for 
all the purposes of a general government, and leavirg vith the 
States, as State governments leave with the towns, those minor ques- 
tions of local law in which the inteprity of the nation was not 
involved. The Constitution of the United Stato*) i?, in the judg- 



52 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

laent of the millions of the American people, the most sagac lous 
document which has ever emanated from uninspired minds. It 
has created the strongest government upon this globe. It has 
made the United States of America what they now are. The 
world must look at the fruit, and wonder and admire. 

It is stated in the Madison Papers, that, in the convention which 
framed our Constitution, it was proposed that the title of the 
President of the United States should be His Excellency ; but 
the Committee of Style and Arrangement negatived this, and 
reported in favor of the simple title of President of the United 
States. It has been said that this was done at the instance of Dr. 
Franklin, who, when the question was under discussion, sarcas- 
tically proposed to insert immediately after " His Excellency *' 
the words, "And the Vice-President shall be styled. His most su- 
perfluous Highness.^' 

There were some provisions in the compromises of the Consti- 
tution from which the heart and mind of Washington recoiled. 
He had fought for human liberty, — to give to the masses of the 
people those rights of which aristocratic usurpation had so long 
defrauded them. "All men are born free and equal" was the 
motto of the banner under which, he had rallied his strength. 
Equal rights, under the law, for all men, was the corner-stone of 
that American democracy which Washington, Adams, and Jeffer- 
son Avished to establish ; but there was a spirit of aristocracy, of 
exclusive rights for peculiar classes and races, which infused its 
poison into the Constitution, and which subsequently worked out 
its natural fruit of woe and death. Alluding to the unfortunate 
compromise which this spirit insisted upon, in reference to slavery 
and the colored people, Washington wrote, — 

" There are some things in this new form, I will readily ao 
knowledge, which never did, and I am persuaded never will, 
obtain my cordial approbation. But I did then conceive, and do 
now most firmly believe, that, in the aggregate, it is the best 
constitution that can be obtained at the epoch, and that this, or a 
dissolution, awaits our choice, and is the only alternative." 

Upon the adoption of the Constitution, all eyes were turned to 
Washington as chief magistrate. By the unanimous voice of the 
electors, he was chosen the first President of the United States. 
There was probably scarcely a dissentient voice in the nation. 
New York was then the seat of government. As WashingtcD 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 53 

left Mount Vernon for the metropolis to assume these new duties 
(if toil and care, we find recorded in his journal, — 

" About ten o'clock, I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private 
Hfe, and to domestic felicity; and, with a mind oppressed with 
more anxious and painful sensations than I have words to express, 
set out for New York, with the best disposition to render service 
1o my country in obedience to its call, but with less hopes o:^ 
answering its expectations." 

Washington was inaugurated President of the United Sta--.;S 
on the 30th of April, 1789. He remained in the presidential chair 
two terms, of four years each. At the close of his illustrious ad- 
ministration, in the year 1796, he again retired to the peaceful 
shades of Mount Vernon, bequeathing to his grateful countrymen 
the rich legacy of his Farewell Address. The admiration with 
which these parting counsels were received never will wane. 
Soon after Washington's return to his beloved retreat at Mount 
Vernon, he wrote a letter to a friend, in which he described the 
manner in which he passed his time. He rose with the sun, and 
first made preparations for the business of the day. 

'* By the time I have accomplished these matters," he adds, 
'' breakfast is ready. This being over, I mount my horse, and 
ride round my farms, which employs me until it is time to dress 
for dinner, at which I rarely miss t'o see strange faces, come, as 
they say, out of respect to me. And how different is this from 
liaving a few friends at the social board ! The usual time of sit- 
ting at table, a walk, and tea, bring me within the dawn of candle- 
Hght; previous to which, if not prevented by company, I resolve, 
that, as soon as the glimmering taper supplies the place of the 
great luminary, I will retire to my writing-table, and acknowledge 
the letters I have received. Having given you this history of a 
day, it will serve for a year." 

The following anecdotes have been related, illustrative of Presi- 
dent Washington's habits of punctuality. Whenever he assigned 
to meet Congress at noon, he seldom failed of passing the door of 
the hall when the clock struck twelve. His dining-hour was at 
four o'clock, when he always sat down to his table, whether his 
guests were assembled or not, merely allowing five minutes for 
the variation of time-pieces. To those who came late, he re- 
marked, •'* Gentlemen, we are punctual here : my cook never aska 
whether the company has arrived, but whether the hour has." 



84 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

When visiting Boston, in 1789, he appointed eignt o'clock in the 
morning as the hour when he would set out for Salem ; and, while 
the Old-South clock was striking eight, he was mounting his sad- 
dle. The company of cavalry which had volunteered to escort 
him, not anticipating tiiis punctuality, did not overtake him until 
ho had reached Charles-River Bridge. As the troops came hurry- 
ing up, the President said to their commander with a good-natured 
smile, " Major, I thought you had been too long in my family not to 
know when it was eight o'clock." 

Capt. Pease had purchased a beautiful span of horses, which he 
wished to sell to the President. The President appointed five 
o'clock in the morning to examine them at his stable. The cap- 
tain arrived, with his span, at quarter-past five. He was told by 
the groom that the President was there at five o'clock, but was 
then gone to attend to other engagements. The President's time 
was wholly pre-occupied for several days; so that Capt. Pease had 
to remain a whole week in Philadelphia before he could get 
another opportunity to exhibit his span. 

Washington, having inherited a large landed estate in Virginia, 
was, as a matter of course, a slaveholder. The whole number 
which he held at the time of his deatli was one hundred and 
twenty.four. The system met his strong disapproval. In 1786, 
he wrote to Robert Morris, saying, " There is no man living who 
wishes more sincerely than I do to see a plan adopted for the 
abolition of slavery." 

Lafayette,' that true friend of popular rights, was extremely 
anxious to free our country from the reproach which slavery 
brought upon it. Washington wrote to him in 1788, " The 
scheme, my dear marquis, which you propose as a precedent to 
encourage the emancipation of the black people of this country 
from the state of bondage in which they are held, is a striking 
evidence of the state of your heart. I shall be happy to join you 
in so laudable a work." 

In his last will and testament, he inscribed these noble words : 
" Upon the decease of my wife, it is my will and desire that all 
the slaves which I hold in my own right shall receive their free- 
dom. To emancipate them during her life would, though earnestly 
vrished by me, be attended with such insuperable difficulties, on 
account of their mixture by marriage with the dower negroes, aa 
*.o excite the most painful sensation, if not disagreeable conse- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 55 

quences, from the latter, while both descriptions are in the occu- 
pancy of the same proprietor; it not being in my power, under the 
tenure by which the dower negroes are held, to manumit them." 

Long before this, he had recorded his resolve : " I never mean, 
unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it, to 
possess another slave by purchase ; it being among my first 
wishes to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this coun- 
try ma^ be abolished by law." 

Mrs. Washington, immediately after her husband's death, learn- 
ing from his will that the only obstacle to the immediate emanci- 
pation of the slaves was her right of dower, immediately relin- 
quished that right, and the slaves were at once emancipated. 

The 12th of December, 1799, was chill and damp. Washington, 
however, took his usual round on horseback to his farms, and 
returned late in the afternoon, wet with sleet, and shivering with 
cold. Though the snow was clinging to his hair behind when he 
came in, he sat down to dinner without changing his dress. The 
next day, three inches of snow wiiitened the ground, and the sky 
was clouded. Washington, feeling that he had taken cold, re- 
mained by the fireside during the morning. As it cleared up in 
the afternoon, he went out to superintend some work upon the 
lawn. He was then hoarse, and the hoa^'seness increased as night 
came on. Ee, however^ took no remedy for it : saying, " I never 
take any thing to carry off a cold. let it go os '^t came." 

He passed th«- evening as usual, leadrng the papers, answering 
letters, and conversing with his family. About two o'clock the 
next morning, Saturday, the 14th, he awoke in an ague-chill, and 
was seriously unwell. At sunrise, his physician, Dr. Craig, who 
resided at Alexandria, was sent for. In the mean time, he was 
bled by one of his overseers, but with no relief, as he rapidly 
grew worse. Dr. Craig reached Mount Vernon at eleven o'clock, 
ai d immediately bled his patient again, but without effect. Two 
consulting physicians arrived during the day; and, as the difficulty 
in breathing and swallowing rapidly increased, venesection was 
again attempted. It is evident that Washington then considered 
his case doubtful. He examined his will, and destroyed some 
papers which he did not wish to have preserved. 

His sufferings from inflammation of the throat, and struggling 
for breath, as the afternoon wore away, became quite severe. 
Still he retained his mental faculties unimpaired, and spoke briefly 



56 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of his approaching death and burial. About four o'clock in the 
afternoon, he said to Dr. Craig, " I die hard ; but I am not afraid 
to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I should not survive 
it: my breath cannot last long." About six o'clock, his physician 
asked him if he would sit up in his bed. He held out his 
hands, and was raised up on his pillow, when he said, " I feel that 
7 am going. I thank you for your attentions. You had better 
not take any more trouble about me, but let me go off quietly. 1 
cannot last long." 

He then sank back upon his pillow, and made several unavailing 
attempts to speak intelligibly. About ten o'clock, he said, " I am 
just going. Have me decently buried, and do not let my body 
be put into the vault until three days after I am dead. Do you 
understand me ? " To the reply, " Yes, sir," he remarked, " It is 
well." These were the last words he uttered. Soon after this, 
he gently expired, in the sixtj'^-eighth year of his age. 

At the moment of his death, Mrs. Washington sat in silent 
grief at the foot of his bed. " Is he gone ? " she asked in a firm 
and collected voice. The physician, unable to speak, gave a 
silent b-ignal of assent. " 'Tis well," she added in the same 
untremulous utterance. '' All is now over. I shall soon follow 
him. I have no more trials to pass through." 

On the 18th, his rem?.i!?s v. ere deposited in the tonb at Mount 
Vernon, where they nor/ repoi?o, enshrined in a nation's love ; and 
his fame will forever, as now fill the world. 



CHAPTER II. 

JOHN ADAMS. 

A::3estry of John Adams. — Anecdote of his Boyhood. — State of the Country.— Marriaga 

— British Assumptions. — Riot in Boston. — Adams's Defence of the Soldiers. — Anec- 
dote. — Patriotism of Adams. — The Continental Congress. — His Influence in Congress. 

— Energy of Jlrs. Adams. — The Appointment of Washington. — The Declaration of 
Independence. — Letter from Mrs. Adams. — Interview with Lord Howe. — Journey to 
Baltimore. — Delegate to France. — The Voyage. — Adams and Franklin. — The Con- 
trast. — Franklin and Voltaire. — Second Trip to Paris. — Successful Mission to Holland. 

— Conflict with the French Court. — Mission to England. — Presidential Career. — Last 
Days and Death. 

John Adams was born in the present town of Quincy, then a 
portion of Braintree, on the 30th of October, 1735. His father's 
elder brother, Joseph, had been educated at Harvard, and was, 
for upwards of sixty years, minister of a Congregational church 
at Newington, N.H. The father of John Adams was a farmer 
of moderate means, a worthy, industrious man, toihng early and 
late for the very frugal support which such labor could fur- 
nish his family. The fact that he was a deacon of the church 
attests the esteem in which he was held by the community. Like 
most Christian fathers, he was anxious to give his son a collegiate 
education, hoping that he would become a minister of the gospel. 

But, like most boys, John Adams was not fond of his books. In 
the bright, sunny morning of his boyhood in Braintree, with the 
primeval forest waving around, the sunlight sleeping upon the 
meadows, the sparkhng brooks alive with trout, and the ocean 
rolling in its grandeur before him, out-door life seemed far more 
attractive than the seclusion of the study, and the apparent mo- 
notony of life in the midst of books. When he was about fourteen 
years of age, his father said to him, " My son, it is time for you to 
decide respecting your future occupation in life. What business 
do you wish to follow ? " 

'' I wish to be a farmer," the energetic boy replied. 

" Very well," said the judicious father : " it is time now for you 
to commence your life-work. You must give up play, and enter 
upon that steady, hard work, without which no farmer can get a 



58 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

living." The next morning, at an early hour, John was with his 
hoe alone in the field. He worked all the morning till noon; 
came home to his dinner ; returned to the field ; worked all the 
afternoon till night. As he hoed, he thought. The blue sky was 
above hira ; but there \Nas also a bla^nirg, scorching sun. The 
forest waved around. He would have enjoyed wandering through 
it with his gun ; but that was boy's play which he had given up, 
not farmer's work upon which he had entered. Work, work, 
work, was now to him life's doom ; and forest, brook, and ocean 
strangely lost their charms. 

In the evening he said to his father, with some considerable 
hesitation, " Father, I have been thinking to-day, and have con- 
cluded that I should like to try my books." His father offered 
no objections, and was willing to make every effort in his power 
to indulge his son in his choice, if he were determined to devote 
all his energies to the acquisition of an education. There was a 
very good school in the town, and John laid aside his hoe for his 
grammar. He entered Harvard College at the age of sixteen, and 
graduated in 1755, highly esteemed for integrity, energy, and 
ability. He must have struggled with small means ; for his father 
found it necessary to add to his labors as a farmer the occupation 
of a shoemaker, to meet the expenses of his household. When 
John graduated at twenty years of age, he was considered as 
having received his full share of the small paternal patrimony; 
and, with his education as his only capital, he went out to take his 
place in the conflicts of this stormy world. The first thing the 
3'-oung graduate needed was money. He obtained the situation 
of instructor in one of the public schools in Worcester. While 
teaching school, he also studied law. All thoughts of the minis- 
terial profession were soon abandoned. 

This was a period of great political excitement. France and 
England were then engaged in their great seven-years' struggle 
for the mastery over this continent. Braddock had just suffered 
his ignoble defeat. A young Virginian by the name of George 
Washington, who had saved Braddock's army, was then beginning 
to be known. The colonies were in great peril. The question, 
whether French or English influence was to dominate on this con- 
tinent, was trembling in the balance. A large number of the 
young men of the colonies were called to the camp, and the great 
theme engrossed every mind. At this time, John Adams wrote a 



JOHN ADAMS. 59 

very remarkable letter to a friend, in which, with almost prophetic 
vision, he described the future greatness of this country, — a 
prophecy which time has more than fulfilled. 

To these engrossing themes young Adams consecrated all the 
enthusiasm of his nature. He thought, he talked, ho wrote. He 
hesitated whether to give himself to law, to politics, or to the 
army. Could he have obtained a troop of horse, or a company cf 
foot, he declares that he should infallibly have been a soldier. 

For two years, John Adams remained in Worcester, then a towri 
jf but a few hundred inhabitants, teaching a public school and 
studying law. He was a very earnest student. His journal 
prove? that, inspired by a noble ambition, he consecrated his 
time, w ith great moral courage and self-denial, to intellectual cuL 
ture. Speaking of the profligate lives of some of the young men 
around him, he writes, — 

'' What pleasure can a young gentleman, Avho is capable of 
thinking, take in playing cards ? It gratifies none of the senses. 
It can entertain the mind only by hushing its clamors. Cards, 
backgammon, &c., are the great antidotes to reflection, to think- 
ing. What learning and sense are we to expect from young gen- 
tlemen in whom a fondness for cards, &c., outgrows and chokes 
the desire of knowledge ? " 

When but twenty-two years of age, he returned to his native 
town of Braintree, and, opening a law-office, devoted himself to 
study with renewed vigor. Soon after this, his father died ; and he 
continued to reside with his mother and a brother, who had taken 
the farm. His native powers of mind, and untiring devotion to his 
profession, caused him to rise rapidly in public esteem. In Octo 
ber, 1764, he married Miss Abigail Smith, daughter of Rev. Wil- 
liam Smith, pastor of the church in Weymouth. She was a lady 
of very rare endowments of person and of mind, and, by the force 
of her character, contributed not a little to her husband's celebrity. 
The British Government was now commencing that career of 
aggressions upon the rights of the colonists which aroused the 
most determined resistance, and which led to that cruel war 
which resulted in the independence of the colonies. An order was 
issued by the British crown, imposing taxes upon certain goods, 
and authorizing an indiscriminate search to find goods which 
might have evaded the tax. The legality of the law was con- 
tested before the Superior Court. James Otis was engaged by 



60 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the merchants to argue their cause against this encroachment ot 
arbitrary power. With consummate ability he performed his task. 
John Adams was a delighted listener. 

" Otis," he wrote, " was a flame of fire. With a promptitude of 
classical allusion, a depth of research, a rapid summary of his- 
torical events and dates, a profusion of legal authorities, and a 
prophetic glance of his eyes into futurity, he hurried away all 
before him. American independence was then and there horn. 
Every man of an immensely crowded audience appeared to me to 
go away, as I did, ready to take up arms." 

A literary club was about this time formed of prominent gen- 
tlemen of the bar, which met once a week in a small social circle, 
at each other's houses, to discuss subjects of popular interest. 
Mr. Adams read an essay upon the state of afl'airs, which was 
published in the journals, republished in England, and which 
attracted great attention. The friends of the colonists in England 
pronounced it " one of the very best productions ever seen from 
North America." 

The memorable Stamp Act was now issued ; and Adams, gather 
ing up his strength to resist these encroachments, entered with 
all the ardor of his soul into political life.^^JIa drew up a series 
of resolutions, remonstrating against fHe^tamp Act, which Avere 
adopted at a public meeting of the citizens at Braintree, and 
which were subsequently adopted, word for word, by more than 
forty towns in the State. Popular commotion prevented the land- 
ing of the Stamp-Act papers. This stopped all legal processes, 
and closed the courts. The town of Boston sent a petition to the 
governor that the courts might be re-opened. Jeremy Gridley, 
James Otis, and John Adams, were chosen to argue the cause of 
the petitioners before the governor and council. Mr. Gridley 
urged upon the council the great distress which the closing of 
the courts was causing. Mr. Otis argued that this distress fully 
warranted them to open the courts, while the question was being 
referred to the authorities beyond the sea ; but John Adams- 
bold ly took the ground that the Stamp Act was an assumption of 
arbitrary power, violating both the English Constitution and the 
charter of the province. It is said that this was the first direct 
denial of the unlimited right of parliament over the colonies. 

Soon after this, the Stamp Act was repealed. Mr. Adams now 
entered upon a distinguished political career. A press-gang from 



JOHN ADAMS. 61 

a king's ship in the harbor of Boston seized a young American 
by the name of Ansell Nickerso-'i. The intrepid sailor thrust a 
harpoon through the heart of Lieut. Panton, the leader of the 
gang. He was tried for murder. John Adams defended him. 
He argued that the usage of impressment had never extended to 
the colonies ; that the attempt to impress Nickerson was unlaw- 
ful ; that his act of killing his assailant was justifiable homicide. 
The hero was acquitted, and the principle was established, that 
the infamous royal prerogative of impressment could have no ex* 
istence in the code of colonial law. 

To sujipress the spirit of independence, daily becoming more 
manifest among the people, the British crown sent two regiments 
of soldiers to Boston. A more obnoxious menace could not have 
been devised. The populace insulted the soldiers : the soldiers 
retaliated with insolence and threats. 

On the 5th of March, 1770, a small party of soldiers, thus 
assailed, fired upon the crowd in State Street, Boston, killing and 
wounding several. Mutual exasperation was now roused almost 
to frenzy. The lieutenant and six soldiers were arrested, and 
tried for murder. Very nobly, and with moral courage rarely 
equalled, John Adams and Josiah Quincy undertook the task of 
their defence. They encountered unmeasured obloquy. They 
were stigmatized as deserters from the cause of popular liberty, 
and the bribed advocates of tyranny. But both of these ardent 
patriots had witnessed with alarm the rise of mob violence, and 
they felt deeply that there was no tyranny so dreadful as that of 
anarchy. Better it was, a thousand-fold, to be under the domin.i 
tion of the worst of England's kings than that of a lawless mob. 

An immense and excited auditory was present at the trial. The 
first sentence with which John Adams opened his defence prt)- 
duced an electrical effect upon the corrt and the crowd. It was 
as follows : — 

"May it please your honors, and you, gentlemen of the jury, 1 
am for the prisoners at the bar, and shall apologize for it only in 
the words of the Marquis Beccaria: 'If I can be the instrument 
of preserving one life, his blessing, and tears of transport, shall be 
a sufiicient consolation to me for the contempt of all mankind.' " 

Capt. Preston and the soldiers Avere acquitted, excepting two, 
who were found guilty of manslaughter, and received a very slight 
punishment. Though Boston instituted an annual commemoration 



^2 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of the massacre, Mr. Adams's popularity suffered so little, tliat he 
was elected by the citizens of Boston, to which place he had re- 
moved, as one of their representatives to the Colonial Legislature. 
Gov. Hutchinson, though a native of the province, was a man of 
great energy and of insatiable ambition. Anxious to secure the 
royal favor, upon which he was dependent for his office, he gave 
all his influence in favor of the demands of the crown. In all 
those measures, John Adams was recognized as one of his most 
formidable antagonists. In 1772, Mr. Adams, finding his health 
failing from his incessant application to business, returned to his 
more secluded home at Braintree. 

The energetic remonstrances of the colonists against taxation 
without representation, and their determination not to submit to 
the wrong, had induced the repeal of the tax upon all articles 
except tea. This led to organizations all over the land to abandon 
the use of tea. Large shipments were made to Boston. The con- 
signees endeavored to send it back. The crown-officers in the 
custom-house refused a clearance. On the evening of the 15th of 
December, a band of men, disguised as Indians, boarded the ves- 
sels, hoisted the chests upon the deck, and emptied their contents 
into the sea. 

Under the circumstances, this was a deed of sublime daring, 
being the first open act of rebellion. The crown, exasperated, 
punished Boston by sending armed ships to close the port. This 
was a deadly blow to the heroic little town. The other colonies 
sympathized nobly with Massachusetts. Combinations were 
formed to refuse all importations from Great Britain. A General 
Congress was convened in Philadelphia, 1774, to make common 
cause against the powerful foe. John Adams was one of the five 
delegates sent from Massachusetts to the Continental Congress. 
He was entreated by a friend, the king's attorney-general, not 
to accept his appointment as a delegate to the Congress. " Great 
Britain," said the attorney-general, " has determined on her sys- 
tem. Her power is irresistible, and will be destructive to you, 
and to all those who shall persevere in opposition to her de- 
signs." 

The heroic reply of John Adams was, " I know that Great Brit- 
ain has determined on her system ; and that very determination 
determines me on mine. You know that I have been constant and 
aniform in my opposition to her measures. The die is now cast. 



JOHN ADAMS. 63 

I have passed the Rubicon. Sink or swim, live or die, survive or 
perish, with my country, is my fixed, unalterable determination." 

Few comprehended more fully than Mr. Adams the sublimity 
of the crisis which was impending. He wrote at this time in his 
journal, — 

'' I wander alone, and ponder ; I muse, I mope, I ruminate ; I am 
often in reveries and brown studies. The objects before me are 
too grand and multifarious for my comprehension. We have not 
men fit for the times. We are deficient in genius, in education, 
in travel, in fortune, in every thing. I feel unutterable anxiety. 
God grant us wisdom and fortitude ! Should the opposition be 
suppressed, should this country submit, what infamy and ruin ! 
God forbid ! Death, in any form, is less terrible." 

fie was not blind to the danger of incurring the vengeanr^fi of 
the British Government. He wrote to James Warren, " There is 
one ugly reflection. Brutus and Cassius were conquered and 
slain. Hampden died in the field ; Sidney, on the scaffold." 

Mr. Adams was strongly attached to his friend Mr. Sewall, who 
remonstrated with him against his patriotic course, and who was 
disposed to espouse the cause of the king. On bidding him adieu, 
Mr. Adams said, " I see we must part ; and with a bleeding heart 
I say, I fear forever : but you may depend upon it, this adieu 
is the sharpest thorn upon which I ever set my foot." 

The Colonial Congress commenced its session at Philadelphia the 
5th of September, 1774, when Mr. Adams took his seat. He was 
speedily placed on several of the most important committees. 
The general desire then was merel}^ for a redress of grievances. 
Very few wished to break away from the British crown. George 
Washington was one of the Virginia delegation. He doubted 
whether the British cabinet, in its arrogance, would relinqi/ish its 
insane attempt to deprive the colonists of their liberties ; but 
Richard Henry Lee, another of the Virginia delegation, said to 
Mr. Adams, — 

^'- We shall infallibly carry all our points. You will be completely 
relieved. All the ofiensive acts will be repealed. The army and 
fleet will be recalled, and England will give up her foolish project." 
Much as Mr. Adams might have desired this to be true, his 
Bagacity led him to concur in the judgment of George Washington. 
This Congress, by its ability and heroism, rendered its memory 
immortal. Lord Chatham said, — 



64 LIVES OF TUE PRESIDENTS. 

" I have studied and admired the free States of antiquity, the 
master-spirits of the world ; but for solidity of reason, force of 
sagacity, and wisdom of conclusion, no body of men can take the 
precedence of this Continental Congress." 

At this time, the idea of independence was extremely unpopu- 
lar in Pennsylvania and in all the Middle States. Virginia was the 
most populous State in the Union ; and its representatives, proud 
of the ancient dominion, not without a show of reason, deemed it 
their right to take the lead in all important measures. A Virginian 
was appointed commander-in-chief. A Virginian wrote the Decla- 
ration of Independence ; a Virginian moved its adoption by Con- 
gress. Mr. Adams says of the Massachusetts delegation, — 

" We were all suspected of having independence in view. 
' No'^:,' said they, 'you must not utter the word "independence," 
nor give the least hint or insinuation of the idea, either in Con- 
gress or in private conversation : if you do, we are undone.' " 

It was soon rumored throughout Philadelphia that John Adams 
was for independence. The Quakers and the gentlemen of prop- 
erty took the alarm. Adams "was sent to Coventry," and was 
avoided like a leper. With a saddened yet imperial spirit, borne 
down, yet not crushed, by the weight of his anxieties and unpop- 
ularity, almost in solitude, for a time he walked the streets of 
Philadelphia. It would have been well for him could he have 
blended a little more of the suaviter in modo with the fortiter in re. 

The British crown, with utter infatuation, pursued its reckless 
course. In April, 1775, the war of the Revolution was opened, as 
brave men were shot down by English soldiery upon the green at 
Lexington. Boston was placed under martial law. All its citizens 
were imprisoned within the lines of the British fleet and army 
which encompassed the city. The inhabitants were plunged into 
the deepest distress. On the 10th day of May, the Congress again 
assembled in Philadelphia. Mrs. Adams kept her husband minutely 
informed of all the events occurring in Boston and its vicinity. 
About the middle of May, one sabbath morning, Mrs. Adams was 
roused from sleep by the ringing of alarm-bells, the firing of can- 
non, and the beating of drums. She immediately sent a courier to 
Boston, and ibund every thing in great confusion. Three vessels 
of war had loft the harbor, manifestly on some hostile mission, and 
were sailing along the shores of Massachusetts Bay, approaching 
Braintree or Weymouth. Men, women, and children were flying 



JOHN ADAMS. 



65 



m all directions. The sick were placed in beds on carts, and hur- 
ried to a place of safety. The report was, that three hundred 
soldiers had landed, and were marching up into the town of Brain- 
tree. Men seized their guns, and came flocking from their farms, 
until two thousand were collected. 

It soon turned out that the hostile expedition had landed on 
Grape Island to seize a large quantity of hay which was stored there. 
The impetuous colonists soon mustered two vessels, jumped on 
board, and put off for the island. The British, seeing them coin 
ing, decamped. Our men landed, and set fire to the hay, about 
eighty tons. Mrs. Adams, in giving an account of this, writes, — 

Our house has been, upon this alarm, in the same scene of con- 
fusion that it was upon the former ; soldiers coming in for lodging, 
for breakfast, for supper, for drink. Sometimes refugees from 
Boston, tired and fatigued, seek an asylum for a day, a night, a 
week, Yo- can hardly imagine how we live. 




;a:su)£NCB of jobn adasis. 



The buttle of Bunker's Hill was fought on the 17th of June, 
1775. The next afternoon, which was Sunday, Mrs. A.dams wrote 
to her husband, — 

9 



66 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" The day, perhaps the decisive day, is come, on which the fate 
of America depends. My bursting heart must find vent at my 
pen. I have just heard that our dear friend Dr. Warren is no 
more, but fell gloriously fighting for his country ; saying, ' Better 
to die honorably in the field than ignominiously hang upon the 
gallows.' 

" Charlestown is laid in ashes. The battle began upon our in- 
trenchments upon Bunker's Hill, Saturday morning, about throo 
o'clock, and has not ceased yet; and it is now three o'clock, sab- 
bath afternoon. The constant roar of the cannon is so distress- 
ing, that we cannot either eat, drink, or sleep." 

These scenes had aroused the country around Boston to the 
very highest pitch of excitement. The farmers had come rushing 
in from all the adjoining towns with rifles, shot-guns, pitch-forks, 
and any other weapons of ofitence or defence which they could 
grasp. Thus a motley mass of heroic men, without efficient arms, 
supplies, powder, or discipline, amounting to some fourteen thou- 
sand, were surrounding Boston, which was held by about eight 
thousand British regulars, supported by a powerful fleet. 

The first thing now to be done by Congress was to choose a 
commander-in-chief for this army. The New-England delegation 
were almost unanimous in favor of Gen. Ward, then at the head 
of the army in Massachusetts. Mr. Adams alone dissented, and 
urged the appointment of George Washington, a delegate from 
Virginia, but little known out of his own State. Through the 
powerful influence of John Adams, Washington was nominated 
and elected. He was chosen without an opposing voice. A pow- 
erful fleet, said to contain twenty-eight thousand seamen and fifty- 
five thousand land troops, v/as now crossing the ocean for our 
enslavement. It would seem impossible, to human visi*^, that 
8uch a force could then be resisted. Our destruction seemed 
sure. Goliah was striding down upon David, and all onlookers 
expected to see the stripling tossed upon the giant's spear high 
into the air. 

Washington hastened to Massachusetts to take command of the 
army. Five days after his appointment, Thomas Jefferson mado 
his appearance upon the floor" of Congress. A strong friend- 
ship immediately sprang up between Adams and Jefl'erson, 
which, Avith a short interruption, continued for the remainder 
of their lives. After a brief adjournment, Congress met again 



JOHN ADAMS. 67 

in September. The battle was still raging about Boston ; and 
the British, with free ingress and egress by their fleet, were 
plundering and burning, and committing every kind of atrocity in 
all directions. John Adau:3 presented and carried the decisive 
resolution, that, in view of the aggressions and demands of Eng- 
land, " it if) necessary that the exercise of every kind of author- 
ity under said crown should be totally suppressed." Having thu/i 
[)repared the ^^ay, a few weeks after, on the 7th of June, 1776, 
Richard Henry Lee of Virginia offered the memorable resolution, 
which John Adams seconded, — 

"That these United States are, and of right ought to be, free 
and independent." 

A committee was then appointed to draught a Declaration of 
Independence. It consisted of Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Sher- 
man, and Livingston. Jefferson and Adams were appointed, by 
the rest, a sub-committee to draw up the Declaration. At Mr. 
Adams's earnest request, Mr. Jefferson prepared thai immortal 
document, which embodies the fundamental principles of all 
human rights. At this time, Mr. Adams wrote to a friend, — 

" I am engaged in constant business, — from seven to ten in the 
morning in committee, from ten to five in Congress, and from six 
to ten again in committee. Our assembly is scarcely numerous 
enough for the business. Everybody is engaged all day in Con- 
gress, and all the morning and evening in committees." 

Jefferson wrote of his illustrious colleague, " The great pillar 
of support to the Declaration of Independence, and its ablest ad- 
vocate and champion on the floor of the house, was John Adams. 
He was our Colossus. Not graceful, not always fluent, he yet 
came out with a power, both of thought and expression, which 
moved us from our seats." 

Mr. Jefferson, though so able with his pen, had little skill in 
debate, and was no public speaker. That which he wrote in the 
silence of his closet, John Adams defended in the stormy hall of 
Congress. When Adams and Jefferson met to draw up the Decla- 
ration of Independence, each urged the other to make the draught. 
Mr. Adams closed the friendly contention by saying, — 

" I will not do it : you must. There are three good reasons 
why you should. First, you are a Virginian ; and Virginia should 
take the lead in this business. Second, I am obnoxious, suspected, 
unpopular : you are the reverse. Third, you can write ten times 



68 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

better than I can." — " Well," Jefferson replied, " if you insist 
upon it, I will do as well as I can." 

On the 4th of July, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was 
adopted by Congress, and signed by each of its members. This 
was one of the boldest acts in the records of time. Every man 
who affixed his signature to that paper thus cast the glove of 
mortal defiance at the foot of the most majestic power on this 
globe. The scene was one upon which the genius of both pen 
and pencil has been lavished. In its grandeur it stands forth as 
one of the most sublime of earthly acts. Of the fifty-five who 
signed that declaration, there was not probably one who would 
deny that its most earnest advocate, and its most eloquent de- 
fender, was John Adams. 

The day after the achievement of this momentous event, Mr. 
Adams wrote to his wife as follows : — 

" Yesterday, the greatest question was decided that was ever 
debated in America ; and greater, perhaps, never was or will be 
decided among men. A resolution was passed, without one dis- 
senting colony, ' That these United States are, and of right ought 
to be, free and independent States.' The day is passed. The 
4th of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of 
America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding 
generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be 
commemorated, as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devo- 
tion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomps, 
sho'5vs, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from 
one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward for- 
ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm ; but I am 
not. I am well aware of the toil and blood and treasure that it 
will cost to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend 
these States ; yet, through all the gloom, I can see that the end 
is worth more than all the means, and that posterity will triumph, 
though you and I may rue, which I hope we shall not." 

A few weeks before this, early in March, Washington had taken 
possession of Dorchester Heights, and had driven the British out 
of Boston. Mrs. Adams, in a letter to her husband, under date of 
March 4, writes, — 

" I have just returned from Penn's Hill, where I have been sit- 
ting to hear the amazing roar of cannon, and from whence I could 
see every shell that was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the 



JOHN ADAMS. 68 

grandest in nature, and is of the true species of the sublime.' 
The next morning, she adds to her letter, "I went to bed about 
twelve, and rose again a little after one. I could no more sleep 
than if I had been in the engagement : the rattling of the win- 
dows, the jar of the house, the continual roar of twenty-four 
pounders, and the bursting of shells, give us such ideas, and 
realize a scene to us of which we could form scarcely any concep- 
tion. I hear we got possession of Dorchester Hill last night; four 
thousand men upon it to-day : lost but one man. The ships are all 
drawn round the town. To-night we shall realize a more terrible 
scene still. I sometimes think I cannot stand it. I wish myself 
with you out of hearing, as I cannot assist them." 

In August, a British army, landing from their fleet, under Lord 
Howe, overran Long Island, defeating the American army, which 
only escaped destruction by retreating in a dark and foggy night 
to the main land. Howe imagined that the discouragement of this 
defeat would induce the Americans to listen to terms of submis- 
sion. He therefore requested an interview with some of the lead- 
ing members of Congress. John Adams was not in favor of the 
conference. He was well assured that England would present no 
terms to which America could accede. A committee, however, 
was appointed to treat with the British general, consisting of 
Adams, Franklin, and Rutledge. 

On Monday, Sept. 9, 1776, the delegates set out to meet Gen. 
Howe on Staten Island. Franklin and Rutledge took chairs, — a 
vehicle for but one person. Mr. Adams rode on hoiseback. The 
first night, they lodged at an inn in New Brunswick, which was 
so crowded, that Franklin and Adams had to take one bed in a 
chamber but little larger than the bed, with no chimney, and but 
one window. The window was open ; and Mr. Adams, who was 
quite an invalid, wished to shut it. " Oh ! " said Franklin, " don't 
shut the window: we shall be suffocated." Mr. Adams replied, 
that he was afraid of the evening air. Dr. Franklin answered, 
"The air within this chamber will soon be, and indeed is now, 
worse than that without doors. Come, open the window, and 
come to bed, and I will convince you." Mr. Adams opened the 
window, and leaped into bed. He writes, — 

" The doctor then began an harangue upon air and cold, and 
respiration and perspiration, with which I was so much amused, 
that I soon fell asleep, and left him and his philosophy together : 



70 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

but I believe that they were equally sound and insensible within 
a few minutes after me ; for the last words I heard were pro- 
nounced as if he Avere more than half asleep. I remember little 
of the lecture, except that the human body, by respiration and 
perspiration, destroys a gallon of air in a minute ; that two such 
persons as were now in that chamber would consume all the air 
iuitin an hour or two; that, in breathing over and over again the 
matter thrown off by the lungs and the skin, we should imbibe 
the real cause of colds, not from abroad, but from within." 

The next morning, they proceeded on their journey. When 
they came to the water's edge, they met an officer whom Gen. 
Howe had sent as a hostage for their, safe return. Mr. Adams 
said to Mr. Franklin, " that it would be childish to depend on such 
a pledge, and that he preferred to trust entirely to the honor of 
Gen. Howe. They therefore took the officer back to Staten 
Island with them in his lordship's barge. As they approached 
the shore. Lord Howe came down upon the beach to meet them. 
Seeing the officer in their company, he said, — 

" Gentlemen, you pay me a high compliment, and you may de- 
pend upon it that I will consider it the most sacred of things." 

They walked up to the house between a line of guards, who 
manoeuvred and handled their muskets in the most approved 
style of military etiquette. The house, which was " dirty as a 
stable," was carpeted with a sprinkling of moss and green sprigs, 
so that it looked picturesquely beautiful. After a slight, cold re- 
past, they entered upon business. Lord Howe remarked that his 
powers enabled him to confer with any private gentlemen of in- 
fluence in the colonies, and that he could only confer with them in 
that character. John Adams, with his characteristic straightfor- 
ward bluntness, replied, 

" We came, sir, but to listen to your propositions. You may 
view us in any light you please, except that of British subjects. 
We shall consider ourselves in no other character than that in 
which we were placed by order of Congress." 

His lordship, who had only permission to offer pardon to the 
leaders of the Revolution, with a few exceptions, if the States 
would return to their allegiance to the king, anxious to conciliate 
the delegation, was profuse in expressions of gratitude to the 
State of Massachusetts for erecting in Westminster Abbey a mon- 
nment to his brother Lord Howe, who was killed in the French 



JOHN ADAMS. 71 

war. He said that his affection for America was, on that account, 
so strong, that he felt for America as for a brother ; anc\ that, if 
America should fall, he should lament it like the loss of a brother. 
Dr. Franklin, with an easy air, bowed and smiled, and replied, with 
all that grace and suavity which marked him as one of the most 
accomplished of diplomatists, — 

" My lord, we will do our utmost endeavors to save your lord- 
ship that mortification," 

Mr. Adams, in his account of the interview, remarks that his 
lordship appeared to feel this with much sensibility. But with 
Mr. Adams's remark, to which we have referred, he was evidently 
not a little nettled ; for, turning to Dr. Franklin and Mr. Rutledge, 
he said, with much gravity and solemnity, '' Mr. Adams is a 
decided character." 

This was the darkest period of the conflict. Our affairs looked 
so gloomy, that even the most sanguine were disheartened. Many 
were exceedingly dissatisfied with that prudence of Gen. Wash- 
ington which alone saved us from destruction. Many were 
anxious to displace him. It has been said that Mr. Adams was 
one of this number. He denies it peremptorily. 

The advance of the enemy towards Philadelphia had rendered 
it necessary for Congress to adjourn to Baltimore. It was in those 
days a long and tedious journey from Boston to that " far-away 
country," as Mrs. Adams called it. Mr. Adams, in his journal, 
gives an account of a horseback-ride which he took in January, 
1777, from Boston, to attend a session of Congress in that distant 
city. 

He rode across the State of Connecticut to Fishkill, on the Hud- 
son, and ascended the banks of the river to Poughkeepsie, where 
he was able to cross upon the ice. He then rode down the west- 
ern banks to New Windsor, five miles below Newburg. Then he 
Btruck across the country to Easton in Pennsylvania. He passed 
through Sussex County in New Jersey, the stronghold of the 
Tories, but encountered no insult, as the firm attitude of the 
patriots overawed them. It took him three weeks of excessive 
fatigue to accomplish this journey. One can now go to California 
in about the same time, and with far less discomfort. Alluding to 
the weary ride, he writes, " The weather has been sometimes bit- 
terly cold, sometimes warm, sometimes rainy, and sometimes 



72 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

snowy, and the roads abominably hard and rough ; so that this* 
journey has been the most tedious I ever attempted." 

The number of members assembled in Congress had become 
quite small, often falling as low as twenty-three. The labors of 
these men have never been properly appreciated. Their peril 
was about as great as that of those who met the foe in the field, 
and their toils scarcely less severe. The imperfections of the 
Old Confederation were very palpable to the sagacious mind of 
John Adams. Mr. Marchant, one of the delegates, relates the fol- 
lowing characteristic anecdote : — 

" The articles of confederation being completed, the members, 
by rotation, were called upon to place their signatures to them. 
This being concluded, a pause and perfect calm succeeded. Mr. 
Adams sat and appeared full of thought. He rose : ' Mr. Presi- 
dent' His cane slipped through his thumb and forefinger, with a 
quick tap upon the floor ; his eyes rolled upwards ; his brows were 
raised to their full arch. * This business, sir, that has taken up so 
much of our time, seems to be finished ; but, sir, I now, upon this 
floor, venture to predict, that, before ten years, the Confederation, 
like a rope of sand, will be found inadequate to the purpose, and 
its dissolution will take place. Heaven grant that wisdom and 
experience may avert what we then have most to fear I ' " 

The Confederacy proved, as Mr. Adams predicted, a failure. It 
was a mere league of States, each reserving all effective powers 
to itself, and conferring upon Congress but the shadow of sov- 
ereignty. 

Dr. Gordon gives the following testimony to Mr. Adams's influ- 
ence : " I never can think we shall finally fail of success while 
Heaven continues to the Congress the life and abilities of Mr. John 
Adams. He is equal to the controversy in all its stages. He 
stood upon the shoulders of the whole Congress when reconcilia- 
tion was the wish of all America. He was equally conspicuous in 
cutting the knot which tied us to Great Britain. In a word, I 
deliver to you the opinion of every man in the house when I add, 
that he possesses the clearest head and firmest heart of any man 
in Congress." 

The energy with which he was inspired and the confidence re- 
posed in him may be inferred from the fact, that he was a member 
of ninety committees, and chairman of twenty-five. Until Novem- 
ber, 1777, Mr. Adams was assiduous in his attendance upon Con» 



JOHN ADAMS. 73 

gress, devoting himself with tireless diligence to his public 
duties. 

In November, 1777, Mr. Adams was appointed a delegate to 
France, to take the place of Silas Deane, who had been recalled 
and to co-operate with Benjamin Franklin and Arthur Lee, who 
were then in Paris, in the endeavor to obtain assistance in arms 
and money from the French Government. This was a severe trial 
to hii patriotism, as it separated him from his home, compelled 
him to cross the ocean in winter, and exposed him to imminent 
peril of capture by the British cruisers. Anxiously he pondered 
the question. He was a man of ardent affections ; and it was hard 
to be separated from his family, consisting of a wife and four chil- 
dren. The news of his appointment was known by the British, 
and they had a large fleet in Newport, R. I., which would undoubt- 
edly be employed to intercept him. Capture would lodge him iu 
Newgate. He would be tried in England for treason, and Mr. 
Adams had no doubt that they would proceed to execute him. 
But, on the other hand, our country was in extremest peril. It 
was clear, that, without the aid of some friendly European power, 
our feeble armies must be crushed. France was the only nation 
from which there was the slightest hope that aid could be obtained. 
Mr. Adams had done perhaps more than any other man to induce 
the colonies to declare their independence. As was to be ex- 
pected of the man, he adopted the heroic resolve to run all the 
risks. 

" My wife," he writes, " who had always encouraged and ani« 
mated me in all the antecedent dangers and perplexities, did not fail 
me on this occasion. After much agitation of mind, and a thousand 
reverses unnecessary to be detailed, I resolved to devote my 
family and my life to the cause, accepted the appointment, and 
made preparation for the voyage." 

It was several months before a frigate could be got ready. On 
a cold day in February, 1778, a wintry wind roughening Massa- 
chusetts Bay, Mr. Adams took a sad leave of his wife and three 
children, and accompanied by his son John Quincy, then a lad of 
but ten years of age, was rowed out to the frigate " Boston," rid 
ing at anchor at some distance from the shore. The voyage was 
stormy, uncomfortable, and eventful. When five days out, on the 
15th of February, three large English frigates were seen, probably 
cruising for the " Boston." They gave chase. Two of them were 

10 



74 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

soon run out of sight. The third, a better sailer, continued the 
pursuit. Arrangements were made for a desperate fight. Mr. 
Adams urged them to contend to the last extremity. 

" My motives," he writes, " were more urgent than theirs ; foi 
it will be easily believed that it would have been more eligible for 
me to be killed on board the ' Boston,' or sunk to the bottom in 
her, than to be taken prisoner." 

Mr. Adams sat at the cabin-windows, watching the frowning 
enemy gaining very rapidly upon them, when suddenly the black 
clouds of a rising tempest gathered in the skies. The wind rose 
to a gale. The clouds hastened the approach of the darkness of 
the night, in which the ships lost sight of each other; and, when 
the morning dawned, the British frigate was nowhere to be seen, 
while the ocean was tossed by a hurricane. 

On the 14th of March, another sail hove in sight. Trusting that 
it might prove a prize which they would be able to take, they 
gave chase ; and it was soon overtaken and captured. Mr. Sprague, 
in his Eulogy of Adams and Jefferson, relates the following anec- 
dote of this engagement. Capt. Tucker begged Mr. Adams to 
retire to a place of safety below. Soon after, as the balls of the 
hostile ship were flying over their heads, Capt. Tucker saw Mr. 
Adams on deck with a musket in his hand, fighting as a common 
marine. In the excitement of the moment, he rushed up to his 
illustrious passenger, exclaiming, "Why are you here, sir? I am 
commanded to carry you safely to Europe, and I will do it ; " and, 
seizing him in his arms, he forcibly carried him from the scene of 
danger. 

They took the prize, and a prize indeed it was. It proved to be 
a letter of marque, the " Martha," Capt. Mcintosh, of fourteen guns, 
with a cargo insured in London for seventy-two thousand pounds. 
The captured vessel was sent to Boston. Capt. Mcintosh, who was 
kept on board the " Boston," was a very intelligent, gentlemanly 
man, and held much friendly conversation with Mr. Adams. On 
the evening of the 15th of March, as they were approaching the 
French coast, Mr. Adams was sitting in the cabin, when Capt. 
lilclntosh came down, and, addressing him with great solemnity, 
said, — 

" Mr. Adams, this ship will be captured by my countrymen in 
less than half an hour. Two large British men-of-war are bearing 
directly down upon us, and are just by. You will hear from them. 1 



JOHN ADAMS. <5 

warrant you, in six minutes. Let me take the liberty to say to ydu, 
that I feel for you more than for any one else. I have always liked 
you since I came on board, and have always ascribed to you the 
good treatment which I have received. You may depend upon 
it, all the good service I can render you with my countrymen 
shall be done with pleasure." 

This was, indeed, startling intelligence. Mr. Adams, who had 
heard an uncommon trampling upon deck, only responded with a 
silent bow, and, taking his hat, ascended the cabin-stairs. It was 
a bright moonlight evening, and there were the two ships already 
within musket-shot. They could see every thing, — even the men 
on board. All expected every moment to be hailed, or perhaps to 
be saluted with a broadside. But the two ships passed without 
speaking a word. " I stood upon deck," writes Mr. Adams, " till 
they had got so far oiF as to remove all apprehension of danger 
from them. Whether they were two American frigates, which 
had been about that time in France, we never knew. We had no 
inclination to inquire about their business or destination, and were 
very happy that they discovered so little curiosity about ours." 

On the morning of March 30, they made Bordeaux Lighthouse, 
and ran safely into the river. Mr. Adams was charmed with the 
appearance of La Belle France. The siglit of land, cattle, villages, 
farm-houses, women and children, after so long and dreary a voy- 
age, gave indescribable pleasure. There was a French ship in 
the stream; and Mr. Adams and his son were invite i to a very 
elegant entertainment, served up in style, to which they had been 
quite unaccustomed in their frugal provincial home. They there 
learned that Dr, Franklin, who had been received by Louis XVI. 
with great pomp, and who, from his courtesy of manners, afiability, 
and aptness in paying compliments, was admirably adapted to im- 
press the French mind, had already succeeded in concluding a 
treaty with France, 

Indeed, it is probably fortunate that Mr. Adams did not arrive 
any sooner. He was not at all at home in French diplomacy. 
While Franklin was greatly admired and caressed, Mr. Adams was 
decidedly unpopular in the Parisian court. His virtues and his 
defects were those of a blunt, straightforward, unpolished Eng- 
lishman. In Paris he met with David Hartley, a member of the 
British House of Commons, They came together like two ice- 
bergs, Mr. Hartley, on his return to London, said to Sir John 



76 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Temple and others, " Your Mr. Adams, that jou represent as a 
man of fiuch good sense, — he may have that; but he is the most 
ungracious man I ever saw." 

Mr. Adams's first interview with the President of the Parlia- 
ment of Bordeaux was alike characteristic of the affable French- 
man and the bluff Yankee. The premier received him not only 
res])ectfully and politely, but with affection which was even 
tender. 

" [ am charmed," said he, " to see you. I have long felt for 
you a brother's love. I have trembled for you in the great perils 
through which you have passed. You have encountered many 
dangers and sufferings in the cause of liberty ; and I have sympa- 
thized with you in them all, for I have suffered in that cause 
myself." 

All this was in accordance with national courtesy, and was as 
sincere as are the usual salutations of social life. It was, by no 
means, hypocrisy : it was only politeness. Dr. Franklin would 
have responded in a similar strain; and the two friends would 
have separated, charmed with each other. We learn how Mr. 
Adams received these cordial advances by the following ungra- 
cious entry in his journal : — 

" Mr. Bondfield had to interpret all this effusion of compliments. 
I thought it never would come to an end ; but it did : and I con- 
cluded, upon the whole, there was a form of sincerity in it, deco- 
rated, and almost suffocated, with French compliments." 

Mr. Adams, and his little son John Quincy, reached Paris on the 
8th of April, after land-travel of five hundred miles. As the am- 
bassador of the infant colonies, struggling for independence, Mr. 
Adams was received by both court and people with the utmost 
kindness. In his journal he records, " The attention to me whi -jh 
has been shown, from my first landing in France, by the people m 
authority, of all ranks and by the principal merchants, and, since 
my arrival in Paris, by the ministers of state, and others of the 
first consideration, has been very remarkable." 

Mr. Adams could not speak French, which was almost a fatal 
obstacle to his success as a courtier. He says that Dr. Franklin 
could not speak it grammatically ; but, at all events. Dr. Franklin 
succeeded in speaking it so well as to charm all with whom he 
conversed, and his polite auditors averred that his pronunciation 
was truly Parisian. He was an exceedingly gallant old gentle. 



JOHN ADAMS. 77 

man of seventy, possessed of extraordinary tact in paying com' 
pliments. 

In a sketch of his colleagues, Mr. Adams writes of Di. Frank- 
lin, — 

" That he was a great genius, a great wit, a great liumorist, a 
great satirist, a great politician, is certain. That he was a great 
philosopher, a great moralist, a great statesman, is more question- 
able." On the other hand, Dr. Franklin writes of his colleague, 
" Mr. Adams is always an honest man, often a wise one ; but he is 
sometimes completely out of his senses." 

Mr. Adams was an earnest, methodical, business man. He was 
disgusted at the loose way in which he found business conducted 
by his colleagues. There was not a minute-book, letter-book, or 
account-book, to be produced. He undertook a vigorous reform, 
bought some blank books, declined invitations to dine, and bowed 
down to the hard work of acquiring the French language. He 
became unduly suspicious of the designs of France. One day, he 
was crossing the court of the palace of Versailles with his col- 
league, Mr. Lee, and the Count de Vergennes. They passed, and 
exchanged bows with, the distinguished general, Marshal Maille- 
bois. " That is a great general," said Mr. Lee. •' I wish," re- 
sponded the count, " that he had the command with you." This 
was a very natural remark, when we had then no generals of dis- 
tinction in our country, and when even many of our own most 
devoted patriots were distrusting Washington. Mr. Adams thus 
comments on these words : — 

" This escape was, in my mind, a confirmation strong of the 
design at court of getting the whole command of America into 
their own hands. My feelings on this occasion were kept to my- 
self; but my reflection was, " I will be buried in the ocean, or in 
any other manner sacrificed, before I will voluntarily put on the 
chains of France, when 1 am struggling to throw off those of 
Great Britain." 

Mr. Adams's earnest patriotism induced him to practise the 
most rigid economy while abroad, that Congress might be put to 
as little expense as possible. The treaty of alliance with France 
was already formed before his arrival ; and, soon finding that there 
was but little for him to do in Paris, he resolved that he had 
rather run the gantlet through all the British men-of-war, and all 
the storms of the ocean on a return, than remain where he was. 



78 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

His journal shows that he was entirely devoted to the business 
of his mission, — an unwearied, self-sacrificing patriot. It also 
shows that he was deficient in certain qualities essential to suc- 
cess in the court of Versailles, and that he was daily becoming 
more alienated from his colleagues, and especially from Dr. Frank 
lin, the supremacy of whose influence could not be concealed. 
Under these circumstances, and in consequence of rcpresentationa 
from both Franklin and Adams, Congress decided to make Dr 
Franklin sole minister at the court of France. Mr. Lee was 
despatched to Madrid ; but for Mr. Adams no provision was 
made. This oversight was simply owing to the harassed and 
distracted condition of Congress at that time. Thus doomed to 
idleness, and uncertain respecting duty, his situation was exceed- 
ingly painful. " I cannot," he wrote, " eat pensions and sinecures : 
they would stick in my throat." 

On the 17th of June, 1779, he embarked on board the French 
frigate " Sensible ; " and arrived safely in Boston with his son on 
the 2d of August, after an absence of seventeen mouths. 

For such a man as Mr. Adams, in such stirring times, there was 
no such thing as rest. Immediately upon his arrival at Braintree, 
he was chosen to represent the town in the state convention then 
held at Cambridge. At the same time, he prepared an elaborate 
review of the state of the different nations in Europe, so far as it 
might have a bearing on the interests of the United States. The 
controvei'sies between the individual members of the foreign dele- 
gation had agitated Congress and the country. There were many 
who were in favor of recalling Dr. Franklin ; but his popularity 
with the French court, and especially with the minister. Count de 
Vergennes, defeated this measure. There was a long and bitter 
conflict in Congress respecting the appointment of commissioners 
to the foreign courts. 

In September, 1779, Mr. Adams was chosen again to go tc Paris, 
there to hold himself in readiness to negotiate a treaty of peace 
and of commerce with Great Britain so soon ass the British cabi- 
net might be found willing to listen to such proposals. The 
Chevalier de la Luzerne, the French minister, who had accom- 
panied Mr. Adams to America, wrote him a ver}^ polite note, con- 
gratulating him upon his appointment, and offering him a passage 
in the return French frigate. M. Marbois had been so much im- 
pressed with the distinguished talents of Mr. Adams's son, John 



JOHN ADAMS. • 79 

Quinuy, tliat be sent his father a special injuuction to carry him 
back, that he might profit by the advantages of a European edu- 
cation. 

On the 13th of November, 1779, Mr. Adams was again on board 
the " Sensible," outward bound. The voyage was dismal; and tiio 
ship having sprung a leak, and being in danger of foundering; 
ihey were compelled to make the first European port, which was 
that of Ferrol, in Spain. In midwinter, Mr. Adams crossed tbo 
Pyrenees, and reached Paris on the 5th of February, 1780. He 
was to remain in the French capital until an opportunity should 
present itself to open negotiations with Great Britain. The 
Count de Vergennes assumed, and very properly, that France, 
our powerful ally, should be specially consulted upon any terms 
which w^re to be presented to the British cabinet ; and that it 
would be manifestly unjust, under the circumstances, for the Unit- 
ed States to negotiate a separate peace with Great Britain, with- 
f^'yi the approval of the French nation. On the other hand, Mr. 
Adams very properly assumed that the United States had not 
placed their destinies in the hands of France, so as to lose all 
their independent power, and to be bound, like a slave, to obey 
the behests of a master. Here came the split, distrust, aliena- 
tion, mutual repugnance. 

There were two motives which influenced France to enter into 
the American alliance. One was a strong popular sympathy in 
our cause, as patriots struggling for liberty: the other was a na- 
tional dislike to England, and a desire to humble that uncompro- 
mising power, and so to secure the friendship of America as to 
obtain a favorable commercial treaty. Mr. Adams acted upon the 
principle that sympathy with Americans, as victims of oppression, 
had no influence whatever with France ; that the French Govern- 
ment, in its alliance, Avas influenced by pure and undiluted selfish- 
ness. Dr. Fianklin did not sympathize in these views, and did 
not give Mr. Adams his moral support. Much annoyed, Mr. 
Adapis at length decided to go to Holland. In taking his depart- 
ure, he wrote a letter to the Count de Vergennes, which did but 
increase the alienation. The count was so indignant, that he sent 
to the Congress at Philadelphia, soliciting the recall of the com- 
missions which had been intrusted to Mr. Adams. 

In Holland he was eminently useful ; negotiating important 
loans and forming important commercial treaties. In his bold 



^0 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

measures here, he assumed much responsibility, for which he was 
commended by Congress. In this brief sketch, it is impossible to 
do full justice to these complicated negotiations. The Count de 
Vergennes apprehended Mr. Adams might propose terms to Great 
Britain unfavorable to the interests of France. Mr. Adams appre- 
hended that the count would insist upon terms of peace so favora- 
ble to French commerce as to cripple the commercial intercourse 
of the United States with England and the other nations of Europe.. 
Both had reason for their fears. 

Mr. Adams ever regarded, and justly, his mission to Holland as 
the greatest success of his life. Through his very great efforts, 
sagaciously conducted, he was at length received as the accred- 
ited minister of the United States, and recognized as a member of 
the corps diplomatique at the Hague. On the very day that he 
was thus received by the States-General, he proposed a treaty of 
amity and commerce ; and on the 7th of October, 1782, had the 
pleasure of announcing the second alliance entered into by the 
United States as a sovereign power. The glory of this great 
event belongs undeniably to John Adams. It was deemed so 
important, that two medals were engraved in Holland in its com 
memoration. " Monsieur," said a French gentleman to Mr. Adams 
on his return to Paris, " you are the Washingtua of negotiation." 
Mr. Adams was highly gratified by the compliments which were 
lavished upon him ; but he intimates that Dr. Franklin would die 
of jealousy should he hear them. 

The alliance with Holland was a great victory ; no less impor- 
tant in its bearing upon the war than the surrender of Cornwallis, 
which occurred about the same time. The conflict in the cabinet 
was as arduous as that in the field. The British ministry now 
began to manifest some disposition to negotiate. In October. 
1782, Mr. Adams returned to Paris. Private emissaries had been 
sent to the continent from London to ascertain who the Americans 
were who were authorized to treat, and what was the extent of 
their powers. In anticipation of this event. Congress had ap- 
pointed a commission, consisting of Adams, Franklin, H. Laurens, 
Jay, and Jefferson, with full authority to negotiate a treaty of 
peace. 

The alienation between Mr. Adams and the French court was 
well known ; and an agent was sent by Lord North to sound bim 
upon the possibility of a separate truce, abandoning France. A 



JOHN ADAMS. 81 

Dieaner act we could not have been guilty of than to have acceded 
to this proposal. England, exasperated against the nation which 
had rescued us from her grasp, was anxious, by detaching us from 
the conflict, to wreak her whole vengeance upon our generoua 
ally. This was just what Count Vergennes had apprehended. 
Mr. Adams consented to meet this emissary at Amsterdam on the 
20th of March; though he wisely attached the condition, that a w\{- 
ness should be present at the interview, and that he should be 
permitted to communicate all that should pass both to Dr. Frank- 
lin and the Count de Vergennes, who were in cordial sympathy 
with each other. These conditions so embarrassed Digges, the 
British envoy, that his mission was an entire failure. France, 
Spain, and Holland were now all, with more or less of zeal, com- 
bined with the United States against England. The British cabi- 
net made a covert effort for a separate pacification with France, 
which was also unsuccessful. 

After a vast amount of diplomatic manoeuvring, a definite 
treaty of peace with England was signed at F'aris on the 21st of 
January, 1783. The re-action from the excitement, toil, and anx- 
iety through which Mr. Adams had passed, threw him into a fever. 
He occupied the HOtel du Roi, in the Place du Carrousel. It was 
a thoroughfare over whose pavements a constant stream of car- 
riages was rolling, with a noise like thunder, incessantly for 
twenty-one hours out of the twenty-four. Burning with fever, 
he found sleep impossible. His friends despaired of his re- 
covery. 

The sufferings of Mrs. Adams, in this long separation from her 
husband, were very severe. A nobler woman never breathed. 
She deserves from a nation's gratitude a monument equally high 
and massive with that of her illustrious companion. When asked, 
after Mr. Adams had been absent three years, " Had you known 
that Mr. Adams would have remained so long abroad, would you 
have consented that he should have gone ? " she replied, after a 
moment's hesitation, — 

" If I had known that Mr. Adams could have effected what he 
has done, I would not only have submitted to the absence I have 
endured, painful as it has been, but I would not have opposed it, 
eve)i though three years more should be added to the number. I 
feel 1 pleasure in being able to sacrifice my selfish passions to the 
general good, and in imitating the example which has taught me 
11 



82 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



to consider myself and family but as the small dust of the balance 
when compared with the great community." 

As soon as Mr. Adams could be removed, he i/P.3 taken to 
Auteuil, where he enjoyed the pure air and silence of the coun- 
try. But recovery was very slow. Feeble, emaciate, languid, 
his friends advised him to go to England to drink the waters of 
Bath. On Monday, the 20th of October, he set out, with his son 
and one servant, for London. While Mr. Adams was in England, 
still drooping and desponding, he received despatches urging the 
indispensable necessity of his repairing immediately to Amster- 
dam to negotiate another loan. 

" It was winter," writes Mr. Adams. " My health was very deli- 
cate. A journey to Holland, at that season, would very probably 
put an end to my labors. I scarcely saw a possibility of surviving 
it. Nevertheless, no man knows what he can bear +ill he tries. A 
few moments' reflection determined ma" 




JOHN ADAMS THE AMBA8SADOK. 



Mr. Adams aud his son repaired to the coast ; spent three days 
in a miserable inn, waiting for a wind ; were tossed upon sickening 



JOHN ADAMS. 83 

billows three days, beating against a wintry gale ; were driven to 
the Island of Goeree, and landed on a desolate shore ; walked five 
miles over ice and snow to a wretched town ; hired a fanner's 
cart, the only vehicle which could be obtained, without cushions 
or springs ; rattled over the deep ruts of the frozen ground twelve 
miles, till they reached a ferry to cross over to the main land ; 
found all the boats on the other side ; waited at the ferry several 
days ; hired, at a great price, an ice-boat to take them over ; were 
rowed in the water till they came to the ice ; then the sailors, 
eight in number, dragged the boat upon the ice, and pushed it 
Along while the passengers walked. When they came to a spot 
where the ice was thin, and the boat broke through, they all 
jumped in again. Were all day, and until late at night, making 
the passage, embarking and disembarking many times. Wet, 
chilled, exhausted, reached the shore ; could find no carriage ; 
hired a peasant's wagon to take them to Brielle, and there obtained 
conveyance through intense cold to the Hague, where Mr. Adams 
succeeded in raising another loan, and saved the credit of his 
country. There is other heroism besides that which is exhibited 
on the bloody field, and there are other battles besides those which 
are fought with powder and bullets. 

Mr. Adams writes in his journal, " I had ridden on horseback 
often t ^ Congress, over roads and across ferries, of which the pres- 
ent generation have no idea; and once, in 1777, in the dead of 
winter, from Braintree to Baltimore, five hundred miles, on a trot- 
ting horse. I had been three days in the Gulf Stream, in 1778, in 
a furious hurricane, and a storm of thunder and lightning, which 
st] uck down our men upon deck, and cracked our mainmast ; when 
the oldest oflQcers and stoutest seamen stood aghast, at their last 
prayers, dreading every moment that a butt would start, and all 
perish. I had crossed the Atlantic, in 1779, in a leaky ship, with 
perhaps four hundred men on board, who were scarcely able, with 
two large pumps going all the twenty-four hours, to keep water 
from filling the hold ; in hourly danger, for twenty days together, 
of foundering at sea. I had passed the mountains in Spain, in the 
winter, among ice and snow, partly on mule-back, and partly on 
foot. Yet I never sufi'ered so much in any of these situations as in 
that jaunt from Bath to Amsterdam, in January, 1784. Nor did any 
of these adventures ever do such lasting injury to my health. I 
aevcr got over it till my return home in 1788." 



84 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

While in England, Mr. Adams had enjoyed the intense gratificeu 
tion of hearing George III., from his throne, announce to Parlia- 
ment that he had concluded a treaty of peace, in which he recog- 
nized the independence of the United States. While in Holland, 
Frederick II. of Prussia made overtures to Mr. Adams for a treaty 
of commerce. At the same time, Mr. Adams received a new com- 
mission, authorizing him to act, with Franklin and Jeiferson, to 
negotiate treaties of commerce with any of the foreign powers. 
As it was evident that his residence abroad was to be extended, 
he wrote to Mrs. Adams to join him with the residue of their 
family. The happy re-union took place in the summer of 1784; 
and they selected for their residence a quiet retreat at Auteuil, 
near Paris. And now came probably the happiest period of Mr. 
Adams's life. His wife, his eldest son, John Quinc}'', then rising 
into a youth of great promise, and his daughter, whose beauty 
and accomplishments made her justly the pride of both father and 
mother, were with him. 

Mrs. Adams, in her letters, gives a very graphic account of her 
life at Auteuil. The village was four miles from Paris. The house 
was very large, and coldly elegant, with mirrors and waxed floors, 
but destitute of comfort. It Avas situated near the celebrated park 
called the Woods of Boulogne, where Mr. Adams, whose health 
required that he should take mucli exercise, walked several hours 
every day. The walls were hned with magnificent mirrors ; but 
there was not a carpet in the house, nor a table better than an oak 
board. A servant polished the floors each morning with a brush 
buckled to one of his feet. The expenses of housekeeping were 
found to be enormous. A heavy tax was imposed upon every 
thing. All articles of domestic use were about thirty per cent 
higher than in Boston. It was absolutely necessary to keep a 
coach ; and the coachman and horses cost fifteen guineas a month. 
The social customs of the country rendered it indispensable that 
they should keep seven servants. Their expenses were so heavy, 
that it required all Mrs. Adams's remarkable financial skill to save 
them from pecuniary ruin. The humble style in which they wero 
compelled to live, compared with the splendor in which all the 
other foreign ministers indulged, must have been no small ti.'al. 
Mr. Jay was compelled to resign his office, as he found thai he 
nould not support himself upon his salary. 

On the 24th of February, 1785, peace with England having been 



JOHN ADAMS. 85 

proclaimed, Congress appointed Mr. Adams envoy to tlie court of 
St. James. He crossed the Channel to assume these new arduous 
and delicate responsibilities. He was now to meet, face to face, 
the King of England, who had so long regarded him as a traitor, 
and against whose despotic power he had assisted the nation so 
successfully to cDntend. Mr. Adams, in his despatch to Mr. Jay, 
fhen secretary of foreign affairs, has left an interesting account 
of his first public reception. 

He rode to court, by invitation of Lord Carmarthen, in his coach. 
\n the ante-chamber he found the room full of ministers of state, 
generals, bishops, and all sorts of courtiers, each waiting his turn 
for an audience. He was soon conducted into the king's closet, 
where he was left alone with the king and his secretary of state. 
Mr. Adams, according to the court etiquette, upon which he had 
carefully informed himself, made three low bows, — one at the 
door, another when he made a couple of steps, and the third when 
he stood before the king. He then, in a voice tremulous with the 
emotion which the scene was calculated to inspire, addressed his 
Majesty in the following words : — 

" Sire, the United States of America have appointed me their 
minister plenipotentiary to your Majesty, and have directed me 
to deliver to your Majesty tliis letter, which contains the evidence 
of it. It is in obedience to their express commands that I have 
the honor to assure your Majesty of their unanimous disposition 
and desire to cultivate the most friendly and liberal intercourse 
between your Majesty's subjects and their citizens, and of their 
best wishes for your Majesty's health and for that of the royal 
family. 

" The appointment of a minister from the United States to your 
Majesty's court will form an epoch in the history of England and 
America. 1 think myself more fortunate than all my fellow- citi- 
izens in having the distinguislied honor to be the first to stand in 
your Majesty's royal presence in a diplomatic character ; and I 
shall esteem myself the happiest of men if I can be instrumental 
in recommending my country more and more to your Majesty's 
. royal benevolence, and of restoring the entire esteem, confidence, 
and affection, or, in better words, the old good nature and the old 
harmony, between people, who, tliough separated by an ocean and 
under different governments, have the same language, a similar 
••eligion, and kindred blood. I beg your Majesty's permission to 



86 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

add, that, although I have sometimes before bei;n intrusted hy mr 
country, it was never, in my whole life, in a manner so agreeable 
to myself." 

The king listened to this address in evident emotion. He seemed 
not a little agitated ; for to his proud spirit it was an hour of deep 
liumiliation. With a voice even more tremulous than that with 
which Mr. Adams had spoken, he replied, — 

"Sir, the circumstances of this audience are so extraordinary, 
the language you have now held is so extremely pioper, and the 
feelings you have discovered so justly adapted to the occasion, 
that I must say that I not only receive with pleasure the assur- 
ance of the friendly disposition of the people of the United States 
but that I am very glad that the choice has fallen upon you as 
their minister. But I wish you, sir, to believe, and that it may be 
understood in America, that I have done nothing in the late con- 
test but what I thought myself indispensably bound to do by the 
duty which I owed to my people. 1 will be frank with you. I 
was the last to conform to the separation ; but the separation 
having been made, and having become inevitable, I have always 
said, as I say now, that I would be the first to meet the friendship 
of the United States as an independent power. The moment I 
see such sentiments and language as yours prevail, and a disposi- 
tion to give this country the preference, that moment I shall say, 
Let the circumstances of language, religion, and blood, have their 
full effect." 

This formality being over, the king asked Mr. Adams if he came 
last from France. Upon receiving an affirmative reply, he smiled, 
and, assuming an air of fluuiliarity, said, " There is an opinion 
among some people that you are not the most attached, of all your 
countrymen, to the manners of France." This perhaps explains 
the reason why the king had said, " I am glad that the choice has 
fallen upon you," and throws light upon the suggestion he bad 
ventured to throw out, that we should manifest " a disposition to 
give this country the preference." But for the aid of our ally, we 
should inevitably have been crushed by the British armies. Yet 
Mr. Adams, regarding those effbrts as purely selfish, was not dis- 
posed to manifest the slightest gratitude. He was, however, a 
little embarrassed by the king's allusion to his want of attachment 
to France, and replied, " That opinion, sir, is not mistaken. I must 
Dvow to your Majesty, I have no attachment but to my own 



JOim ADAMS. 87 

'country." The king instantly responded, " An honest man will 
never have any other." 

Mr. Adams's situation in London was more painful even than in 
Paris. He was met there only with haughtiness and ill-will. Every 
where he encountered cold civility, supercilious indifference. Hia 
literary labors in London were of much service to his country, as ho 
pu-blished "A Defence of the American Constitution," in three vol. 
umes, which displayed much ability, and exerted a powerful influ- 
ence. As Great Britain did not condescend to appoint a minister 
to the United States, and as Mr. Adams felt that he was accom- 
plishing but little, he solicited permission to return to his own 
country, and reached his rural home in Braintree, from which he 
had so long been absent, in June of 1788. 

When some persons accused Mr. Adams of being covertly in 
favor of monarchical institutions, Mr. Jefferson replied, *' Gentle- 
men, you do not know that man. There is not upon this earth a 
more perfectly honest man than John Adams. It is not in his 
nature to meditate any thing which he would not publish to the 
world. I know him well ; and I repeat, that a more honest man 
never issued from the hands of his Creator." 

Five years after the accomplishment of our independence, it 
was found, to the very bitter disappointment of many, that there 
was not so much prosperity, neither was order so well established, 
as in colonial days, while matters were manifestly growing worse. 
There was no common principle harmonizing the action of tho 
different States. We were not a nation. We had no national 
sense of honor. It was necessary to organize the Federal Govern- 
ment anew. The success of the Revolution had afforded the 
United States, as Washington said, " the opportunity of becoming 
a respectable nation." 

Fifty-five delegates were appointed by the various States of the 
C'onfederacy to frame a Constitution for the United States of 
America. They met in Independence Hall, in Philadelphia, where 
the Declaration of Independence had been signed. The Constitu- 
tion which they drew up was accepted by the States, and we be- 
came a nation. George Washington was unanimously chosen 
President for four years ; and John Adams, rendered illustrious 
by his signal services at home and abroad, was chosen Vice-Presi- 
«lent. 

The first Congress under the Constitution met in New York 



88 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

on the 4th of March, 1789. The City Hall, Trhich stood at tho 
corner of Wall and Nassau Streets, where the Custom House now 
stands, had been remodelled for their accommodation, and had 
received the name of Federal Hall. The first business, after the 
organization of the two houses, was to count the votes for Presi- 
dent and Vice-President. Mr. Adams was the first to receive the 
oflScial information of his election. At ten o'clock on the morning 
of the 12th of April, he left his residence in Braintree, and was 
escorted by a troop of horse to Boston. He was received with 
the ringing of bells, the firing of cannon, and the shouts of an im- 
mense concourse of people. His journey to New York was a 
continued ovation. At Hartford the manufacturers presented him 
with a piece of broadcloth for a suit of clothes, and the corpora 
tion of New Haven presented him with the freedom of the city. 
The West-Chester Light Horse escorted him from the Connecticut 
line to King's Bridge, where he was met by a cavalcade of the 
heads of departments, a large number of members of Congress, 
military officers and private citizens, in carriages and on horse- 
back, who conducted him through the swarming streets to the 
house of John Jay, in the lower part of the city. The President's 
mansion was the house since known as Bunker's Hotel, near the 
Bowling Green. Mr. Adams occupied a very beautiful residence 
at Richmond Hill. 

The question at this time was very warmly agitated in Congress 
and throughout the country respecting the permanent location of 
the seat of government. In 1783, the Old Continental Congress 
adjourned from Philadelphia to Princeton, where it occupied for a 
time the halls of college. Thence it adjourned to New York 
where it assembled in the spring of 1785. The question of the 
seat of government was brought before the Convention for form- 
ing the Constitution, which was assembled in Philadelphia. The 
Eastern States were in favor of New York. Pennsylvania pleaded 
for the banks of the Delaware. The more Southern States advv.;* 
cated the banks of the Potomac. 

It was urged in favor of New York, that " honesty was in 
fashion " there, and that there was no city in the world so cele- 
brated " for the orderly and decent behavior of its inhabitants." 
On the other hand. Dr. Rush wrote, " I rejoice in the prospect of 
Congress leaving New York. It is a sink of political vice. Do 
as you please, but tear Congress away from New York in any 



JOHN ADAMS. 89 

way." The Soutb-Carolinians objected to Philadelphia on account 
of the Quakers, who, they said, " were eternally dogging Southern 
members about with their schemes of emancipation." This ques- 
tion, which was connected with another respecting the assumption 
of State debts, threatened to '' dissolve the Union." One morning, 
Jefferson met Hamilton on Broadway; and for an hour they walked 
up and down the crowded pavement, discussing the agitating 
thome. In conclusion, Jefferson proposed that Hamilton should 
dine with him the next evening, promising to invite a few other 
influential friends to talk the matter over. "It is impossible,' 
said Jefferson, " that reasonable men, consulting together coolly, 
can fail, by some mutual sacrifices of opinion, to form a compro- 
mise which is to save the Union." 

By uniting the two questions of the location of the Capitol and 
the assumption of the State debts, a compromise was ejected. It 
was agreed that the government should be permanently estab- 
lished on the Potomac, at a place called Conogocheague, now tho 
District of Columbia; that ten years should be allowed for the erec 
tion of the necessary buildings for the accommodation of the gov- 
ernment ; and that, in the mean time, Philadelphia should be the 
metropolitan city. The people of New York were greatly vexed. 
Eobert Morris, senator from Pennsylvania, was quite influential in 
accomplishing this result. He concluded, that, if the public offices 
were once opened in Philadelphia, they would continue there, and 
that Conogocheague would be forgotten. But for the influence 
of Washington, it is not improbable that this might have been, the 
case. 

Tho irritation of New York received graphic expression in a 
caricature which was posted throughout the city. It represented 
Robert Morris marching off with Federal Hall upon his shoulders. 
Its windows were crowded with members of both houses eagerly 
looking out, some encouraging, others anathematizing, the stout 
Pennsylvania senator as he bore away the prize. The Devil 
stood grinning upon the roof of Paulua Hook Ferry-house, beckon- 
ing in a patronizing way to Mr. Morris, and saying, " This way, 
Bobby ; this way." 

Mrs. Adams superintended the removal of their effects to Phila- 
delphia. She thus describes her new residence at Bush Hill: 
" Though there remains neither bush nor shrub upon it, and very 
few trees except the pine grove behind it, yet Bush Hill is a 

12 



90 LIVES OF THE PHESIDENTS. 

very beautiful place ; but the grand and the sublime I left ai 
Richmond Hill." 

For a long time, Congress ^was not at all pleased with the change, 
and bitter Avere the complaints which were unceasingly uttered. 
But at length the murmurs subsided, and were lost in the excite« 
ment of politics and the gayeties of the republican court. The 
winter presented a continual succession of balls, dinner-parties, 
and similar festivities. " I should spend a very dissipated winter," 
Mrs. Adams writes, " if I were to accept one-half the invitations J 
receive, particularly to the routs, or tea and cards." In the midst 
of this external gayety. Congress was tossed by angry passions 
and stormy debates. Both Washington and Adams were assailed 
with intensest bitterness. Both were accused of monarchical ten- 
dencies, and of fondness for the pomp and pageantry of royalty. 
The Deir.ocratic party was now rapidly rising into controlling 
power. Still both Washington and Adams were re-elected, and 
again on the 4th of March, 1793, took the oaths of office. 

There was certainly then a degree of ceremony observed, re- 
flecting somewhat the pageantry of European courts, which has 
not since been continued. President Washington every fine day 
walked out. Two aides always accompanied him, who were kept 
at a respectful distance, never engaging in conversation. He 
had three very splendid carriages. He drove to church with two 
horses, into the country with four; and six magnificent cream- 
colored chargers drew him to the Senate. His servants wore a 
livery of white, trimmed with scarlet or orange. Both Washing- 
ton and Adams were " gentlemen of the old school," reserved and 
somewhat stately in courtesy. An eye-witness describes the 
scene presented as Washington opened a session of Congress. An 
immense crowd filled the street through which ho was to pass. 
As he left his carriage, he ascended the steps of the edifice, and 
paused upon the upper platform. " There he stood for a moment, 
distinctly seen by everybody. He stood in all his civic dignity 
and moral grandeur, erect, serene, majestic. His costume was a 
full suit of black velvet ; his hair, in itself blanched by time, 
powdered to snowy whiteness, a dress sword at his side, and his 
hat held in his hand. Thus he stood in silence ; and what mo- 
ments those were 1 Throughout the dense crowd profound still- 
ness reigned. Not a word was heard, not a breath. Palpitations 
took the place of sounds. It was a feeling infinitely beyond that 



JOnir ADAMS. 91 

\vhicli vents itself in shouts. Every heart was ful. . In vain 
would any tongue have spoken. All were gazing in mute, unut- 
terable admiration. Every eye was riveted on that form, — the 
greatest, purest, most exalted of mortals." 

Just about this time, that moral earthquake, the French Revolu- 
tion, shook the continent of Europe. Mr. Adams felt no sympathy 
with the French people in this struggle; for he had no confidence 
in their power of self-government, and utterly abhorred the athe- 
istic character of those jo/u7o50/?Aers, who, in his judgment, inaugu- 
rated the movement. He wrote to Dr. Price, — 

" I know that encyclopedists and economists, Diderot and 
D'Alembert, Voltaire and Rousseau, have contributed to this event 
more than Sidney, Locke, or Hoadly, — perhaps more than the 
American Revolution ; and I own to you, I know not what to 
make of a republic of thirty million atheists." 

On the other hand, Jefierson's sympathies were strongly enlisted 
in behalf of the French people, struggling to throw off the yoke 
of intolerable despotism. Hence originated the alienation between 
these two distinguished men. Washington at first hailed the 
French Revolution with hope; but, as its disorders became more 
developed, he leaned more strongly to \ he views of Mr. Adams. 
Two very powerful parties were thus soon organized. Adams was 
at the head of the one whose sympathies were with England. 
Jefferson led the other in sympathy with France. 

England proclaimed war against the French republicans; played 
the tyrant over weaker nations upon the ocean; and, despising our 
feeble navy, insulted and harassed our commerce. This conduct 
swept increasingly the current of popular feeling torvards Mr. 
Jefferson and his party. Upon the retirement of Washingto?., at 
the close of his second presidential term, there was a very hotly 
contested election ; and Mr. Adams, by a slender majority, was 
chosen President ; and Thomas Jefierson, Vice-President. 

Weary of the cares of state, and longing to return to his loved 
home at Mount Vernon, Washington gladly transferred the sceptre 
to the hands of his successor. Henry VH. said of his son, who 
was eager for !;he crown, "Alas ! he little knows what a heap of 
cares and sorrows he snatcheth at." John Adams found indeed, as 
even Washington had found before him, the crown of empire to be 
a crown of thorns. On the 4th of March, 1797, at Philadelphia, 
John Adams was inaugurated President of the United States. At 



92 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

au early hour in the morning, Chestnut Street, in the vicinity of 
Congress Hall, was densely crowded. The hall itself was thronged, 
many of the members surrendering their seats to the ladies. Mr. 
Jefferson first took the oath as Vice-President. At twelve o'clock, 
Washington entered the hall, followed in a few moments by Mr, 
Adams. They were both received with enthusiasm. As soon as 
the oath had been administered, Mr. Adams pronounced his inau- 
gural. At the close of the ceremony, Washington retired, followed 
by a tumultuous throng, eager to catch a last look of the object of 
their veneration. Mr. Adams had but just reached his residence 
when President Washington called upon him, and cordially congra- 
tulated him with wishes for his happy, successful, and honorable 
administration. 

These were stormy days, and it required great wisdom safely 
to navigate the Ship of State. That Mr. Adams's administration 
was conscientious, patriotic, and able, will noAv be universally con- 
ceded. In the then divided state of the public mind, an arch- 
angel could not have conciliated the hostile parties. The excite- 
ment which the French Revolution created in this country, as the 
community ranged themselves on the side of England or of France, 
was intense. For four y ars, Mr. Adams struggled through almost 
a constant tempest of -ssaults. He was never truly a popular 
man. The party arrayed against him, with the Vice-President at 
its head, was powerful in numbers, and still more powerful in 
ability. He was not a man of conciliatory manners or of winning 
speech. After four years of harassment, which must have been 
the four least happy years of his life, he was mortified by losing a 
re-election. Jefferson was chosen President ; Aaron Burr, Vice- 
President ; and ^ohn Adams was left to return to his farm at 
Quincy. His chagrin was great, so great as to lead him to the 
lamentable mistake of refusing to remain in Philadelphia to witr 
ness the inauguration of his successful rival. 

There had ensued a breach in the friendship of these illustrious 
men, which was not closed for thirteen years. But it is the duty 
of the historian to record that there was never a more pure and 
conscientious administration in this country than that of John 
Adams. Posterity has given its verdict in approval of nearly all 
his measures. In almost every conflict, it is now admitted that he 
was in the right, and his opponents in the wrong. Though the 
treatment he had received wounded him deeply, and he keenly 



JOHN ADAMS. 03 

felt the failure of his re-election, it was not without some ei .otions 
of gladness that he laid aside the cares of state to seek refuge in 
the quiet retreat of his home at Braintree. 

It was on the 4th of March, 1801, that Mr. Adams retired to 
private life, after uninterrupted devotion to the public service for 
twenty-six years, — service as arduous, as self-sacrificing, as de- 
voted, as ever fell to the lot of any man. During these long years 
of anxiety and toil, in which he was laying, broad and deep, the 
foundations of an empire destined to be the greatest upon which 
the sun has ever shone, he had received from his impoverished 
country but a meagre support. The only privilege he carried 
with him into his retirement was that of franking his letters, and 
receiving them free from postage, for the remainder of his life. 

He had barely sufficient property to give him needful comforts 
during his declining years. Party spirit then ran so high, that 
obloquy pursued him even into his retreat. Many hours were 
imbittered by the attacks which were made upon him. CIcuds 
of social grief, which at times darken over every family, threw 
their shades upon the homestead at Quincy. 

About the time of Mr. Adams's retirement, his eldest son, who 
was married, and settled in New York, suddenly died, leaving as a 
legacy to his father's care a wife and two infant children. He 
then spoke of this event as the deepest affliction of his life. 
Almost forgotten in his secluded retreat, he found the transition 
painful from his life of excitement, agitation, and the most intense 
intellectual activity, to one of repose, amounting almost to stagaa- 
tion. He was then sixty-six years of age. A quarter of a century 
still remained to him before he died. He generally avoided all 
public gatherings, and took but little part in political questions, 
devoting his time mainly to the cultivation of his farm. When 
England, looking contemptuously upon our feeble navy, persisted 
in perpetrating the outrage of searching American ships wherever 
they might be found, and dragging from them any sailors who 
might be designated by any pert lieutenant as British subjectu, 
both John Adams and his son John Quincy nobly supported the 
policy of Mr. Jefferson in resenting these outrages. It now seems 
strange that a single man could be found in all America willing to 
submit to such insolence. But Mr. Adams was for this bitterly 
accused of being recreant to his life-long principles, and of joining 
the party who were charged with seeking an excuse for dragging 



94 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

our country into a war against England, that we might thus aid 
France. 

On this occasion, John Adams, for the first time since his retire 
ment, broke silence, and drew up a very able paper, exposing the 
atrocity of the British pretensions. It was one of the shrewd 
observations of Napoleon, that it is not safe to judge of what a 
nation will do from what it is for the interest of that nation to do, 
as peoples are governed far more by their passions than by their 
supposed interests. England, actuated by haughty and imbit- 
tered feelings, plunged into her second war with America. Mr. 
Adams had been associated with a party hostile to France, and in 
favor of submission to the British pretensions. In advocating re- 
sistance, he was regarded as abandoning his old friends, and with 
bitter animosity was he assailed.* 

Years rolled on. The treaty of Ghent brought peace with Eng- 
land, Jefferson's two terras of service expired. Madison and 
Mo:2roe came and went; and still the sage of Quincy remained, 
approaching his ninetieth year. In 1813, their only daughter, who 
was not very happily married, died, after a long and painful sick- 
ness. In 1818, when Mr. Adams was eighty -two years of age, his 
noble wife, who had shared with him the joys and griefs of more 
than half a century, died, at the age of seventy-four. The event 
threw over him a shade of sadness which never disappeared. A 
gentleman who visited Quincy a year or two before her death 
gave a description of the interview. Mr. Adams was, in bodily 
strength, very infirm, tottering and shaking with age ; but 
Ms mind seemed as vigorous, and his heart as young, as ever. 
There was a boy's joyousness and elasticity in his hearty laugh. 
He joked, was full of fun, ard talked about everybody and every 
thing with the utmost freedom and abandon. His knowledge 
seemed to his visitor boundless ; for he was equally at home upon 
whatever subject might be introduced. Nothing could be more 
entertaining than his conversation, it was so replete with anecdote 
and lively sallies of wit. 

While thus conversing, Mrs. Adams came in, — a tall and stately 
lady of rather formal address. "A cap of exquisite lace sur- 
rounded features still exhibiting intellect and energy. Her dress 
was snowy white, and there was that immaculate neatness in her 

* It is not impossible that some of tliese statements may be disputed ; but incontro- 
rertible evidence will be found to sustain them in the " Life and Times of John Adams." 



JOUN ADAMS. 95 

appearance which gives to age almost the sweetness of youth. 
With less warmth of manner and sociableness than Mr. Adams, 
she was sufficiently gracious, and her occasional remarks betrayed 
intellectual vigor and strong sense. The guest went away, feel 
ing that he should never again behold such living specimens of 
the ' great old.' " 

While his drooping frame and feeble step and dimmed eye 
showed the ravages of years, his mind retained its wonted vigor. 
He read until his vision failed, and was then read to, many hours 
every day. He loved, in conversation with his friends, to recall 
the scenes of his younger years, and to fight his battles over 
again. His son, John Quincy, rose to distinction, and occupied 
high posts of honor at home and abroad. In 1825, his parental 
pride was gratified, and his parental heart gladdened, in the eleva- 
tion of his son to the chair which the father had honored as Presi- 
dent of the United States. When John Quincy Adams received a 
note from Rufus King, informing him of his election, he enclosed 
it to his father, with the following lines from his own pen, u.vider 
date of Feb. 29, 1825 : — 

My dear and honored Father, — The enclosed note from Mr. 
King will inform you of the event of this day ; upon which I 
can only ofi'er you my congratulations, and ask your blessing and 
prayers. Your affectionate and dutiful son, 

John Quincy Adams. 

John Adams was now ninety years of age. His enfeebled pow- 
ers indicated that his end was drawing nigh. The 4th of July, 
1826, came. The nation had made arrangements for a more than 
usually brilliant celebration of that anniversary. Adams and Jef- 
ferson still lived. It was hoped that they might be brought to- 
gether, at some favored spot, as the nation's guests. It would 
indeed have been a touching spectacle to have seen these venera- 
ble men, after a separation of twenty-five years, again clasp each 
other's hands, and exchange congratulations in view of the pros- 
perity and power of the nation which they had done so mucli 
to form. 

But, as the time drew near, it was evident that neither of them 
could bear a journey. On Friday morning, the 30th of June, a 
gentleman called upon Mr. Adams to obtain a toast to be pre- 



96 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

sented on the 4th of July at the celebration in Quincy. " I give 
you," said he, ^' Independence forever^ 

He was now rapidly declining. On the morning of the 4th, 
his physician judged that he would scarcely survive the day. 
There was the ringing of bells, the exultant music of martial 
bands, the thunders of artillery from ships and forts, from hills and 
valleys, echoing all over our land, as rejoicing millions welcomed 
the natal day of the nation. Mr. Adams, upon his dying couch> 
listened to these sounds of joy with silent emotion. " Do you 
know what day it is?" some one inquired. " Oh, yes ! " he replied : 
" it is the glorious 4th of July. God bless it ! God bless you 
all ! It is a great and glorious day." — " Thomas Jefferson," he 
murmured at a later hour to himself, " still survives." These 
were his last words. But he was mistaken. An hour or two 
before, the spirit of Jefferson had taken its flight. The sands of 
his own long and memorable life were now run out, and gently 
he passed away into that sleep from which there is no earthlj" 
waking. 

Mr. Adams was a man of rather cold courtesy of manners, of 
powerful intellect, of incorruptible integrity. It was one defect 
in his character, that he was deficient in those genial, sympathetic, 
brotherly graces which bind heart to heart. Wherever he ap 
peared, he commanded respect : seldom did he win love. His 
neighbors called him the " Duke of Braintree." But, through all 
time, he must occupy a conspicuous position in the history of this 
country. It is not easy to find any other name to which America 
is more indebted for those institutions which constitute its power 
and its glory +han that of John Adams. 




•IGRAVED EXPRESSLY FOR ABBOTTS llVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 



CHAFri^K 111. 

THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

Rirth and Childhood. — College Life. — A Law Student— Waniest Scholarship. —Marriage. 

— Estate at Monticello. — Interest in Public Affairs. — Action in the Continental Con- 
gress. — Governor of Virginia. — Death of his Wife.— .His Grief. — Letters to h>.s Chil- 
dren. — Minister to France. — His Popularity. — Political Views. — Scientific Accuracy. 

— Interest in the French Revolution. — Returns to America.— Tue two Parties, Federal 
and Democratic. — Secretary of State. — Monarchical Seufin^erth. — Letters. — Corro- 
spondence with John Adams. — Alexander Hamilton. — Weary o' OflSce. — Vice-Presi- 
dent, — President. — Inaugural. — Stormy Administration. — Life in Retireraeut. — 
Scenes at Monticello. — Death. 



The ancestors of Thomas JeflFerson are said to have been of 
Welsh origin, emigrating from the vicinity of Mount Snowdoa 




MONTICELLO. — UESlDliNCK OF THOMAS .JKFKEKSoN. 

But little is known of them. Peter Jefferson, the father of 
Thomas, was a man of handsome property and of considerable 

13 97 



98 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

culture. He married Jane Randolph, a young lady of nineteen, 
of opulent parentage, born in London, and accustomed to the 
refinements of life. Mr. Peter Jefferson, from his worth of char- 
acter and mental attainments, acquired considerable local distinc- 
tion, and was at one time professor of mathematics in William 
and Mary College. 

Peter, with his young bride, took an estate of fourteen hundred 
H(;res upon the slopes of the Blue Ridge, in what is now called 
Alliemarle County, and in the vicinity of the present town of 
Charlottesville. The plantation was called Shadwell, from the 
name of the parish in London where his Avife was born. His 
home was literally hewn out of the wilderness. There were but 
few white settlers within many miles of the mansion, which con- 
sisted of a spacious story and a half cottage-house. A wide hall 
and four large rooms occupied the lower floor. Above these, there 
were good chambers and a spacious garret. Two huge outside 
chimneys contributed to the picturesque aspect of the mansion. It 
was delightfully situated upon a gentle swell of land upon the 
slopes of the Blue Ridge, and commanded a sublime prospect of 
far-reaching mountains and forests. 

Here Thomas was born, the oldest child of his parents, on the 
2d of April, 1743. When he was fourteen j'ears of age, his father 
died, leaving a widow and eight children. We know but very lit- 
tle about these parents. Mr. Jefferson seldom alluded to them. 
His most distinguished biographer says, " He was singularly shy 
in speaking or writing of matters of family history." It is only 
loTiown of his mother, that she was a beautiful and accomplished 
lady, an admirable housekeeper, a good letter-writer, with a great 
fund of humor. Mr. Jefferson used to mention as his earliest 
recollection that of being carried by a slave on a pillow on horse- 
back, when he was but two years of age, in one of the journeys 
cf the family. 

His father and mother belonged to the Church of England 
Thomas Avas naturally of a serious, pensive, reflective turn of 
mind. From the time he Avas five years of age, he Avas kept dili- 
gently at school under the best teachers. He Avas a general 
favorite with both teachers and scholars ; his singular amiability 
Avinning the love of the one, and his close application to study 
and remarkable proficiency securing the affection and esteem 
of the other. It is not usual for a young man to be fond both oi 



xHOMAS JEFFERSON. 99 

mathematics and the classics ; but young Jefferson was alike de- 
voted to each of these branches of learning. He has often been 
heard to say, that, if he were left to decide between the pleasure 
derived from the classical education which his father had given 
him and the large estate which he inherited, he should have 
decided in favor of the former. 

In the year 1760, he entered William and Mary College. IIo 
was then seventeen years of age, and entered an advanced class. 
Williamsburg was then the seat of the Colonial Court, and it was 
the abode of fashion and splendor. Young JeflFerson lived in 
college somewhat expensively, keeping fine horses, and much 
caressed by gay society. Still he was earnestly devoted to his 
studies, and irreproachable in his morals. 

It is strange that he was not ruined. In the second year of his 
college course, moved by some unexplained inward impulse, he 
discarded his horses, society, and even his favorite violin, to 
which he had previously given much time. He often devoted 
fifteen hours a day to hard study ; allowing himself for exercise 
only a run in the evening twilight of a mile out of the city, and 
back again. He thus attained very high intellectual culture, 
alike excelling in philosophy and the languages. The most diffi- 
cult Latin and Greek authors he read with facility. A more 
finished scholar has seldom gone forth from collegiate halls ; and 
there was not to be found, perhaps, in all Virginia, a more pure- 
minded, upright, gentlemanly young man. 

Immediately upon leaving college, he entered the law-office of 
Mr. Wythe, one of the most distinguished lawyers of the State. 
Mr. Jefferson was then not twenty-one years of age. But there 
was something in his culture, his commanding character, and his 
dignified yet courteous deportment, which gave him position with 
men far his seniors in age and his superiors in rank. The Eng- 
lish governor of the colony, Francis Fauquier, was a man of great 
elegance of manners, whose mansion was the home of a very 
generous hospitality. He had three especial friends who often 
met, forming a select circle at his table. These were the eminent 
counsellor, George Wythe ; Dr. Small, a Scotch clergyman, one 
of the most distinguished professors in the college , and Thomas 
Jefferson. It is said that that polish of manners which distin- 
guished Mr. Jefierson through life was acquired in this society. 

In the law-office he continued his habits of intense application 



100 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

to study. In the winter, he rose punctually at five o'clock. In 
the summer, as soon as, in the first gray of the morning, he could 
discern the hands of the clock in his room, he sprang from his 
bed. At nine o'clock in summer he retired ; at ten o'clock in 
winter. His vacations at Shadwell consisted only of a change 
of place : there was no abatement of study. His politeness to all 
shielded him from incivility, and he never became engaged in any 
personal rencounter. Gambling he so thoroughly detested, that 
he never learned to distinguish one card from another. Ardent 
spirits he never drank, tobacco in any form he never used, and ho 
was never heard to utter an oath. 

He was fond of music, and had studied it both practically and 
as a science. Architecture, painting, and sculpture had attracted 
so much of his attention, that he was esteemed one of the best oi 
critics in the fine arts. The accurate knowledge he had acquired 
of French was of immense use to him in his subsequent diplo- 
matic labors. He read Spanish, and could both write and speak 
the Italian. The Anglo-Saxon he studied as the root of the Eng- 
lish, regarding it as an important element in legal philology. 
Thus furnished, he went forth to act his part in life's great 
conflict. 

While a student at law, he heard Patrick Henry, who had sud- 
denly burst forth as Virginia's most eloquent orator, make one of 
his spirit-moving speeches against the Stamp Act. It produced 
an impression upon Jefierson's mind which was never effaced. 
In 1767, he entered upon the practice of the law. His thor- 
oughly disciplined mind, ample stores of knowledge, and polished 
address, were rapidly raising him to distinction, when the out- 
break of the Revolution caused the general abandonment of the 
courts of justice, and introduced him to loftier spheres of respon- 
sibility, and to action in an arena upon which the eyes of the civil 
ized world were concentrated. 

Jefferson, though so able with his pen, was not distinguished as 
a public speaker. He seldom ventured to take any part in debate. 
Still, wherever he appeared, he produced a profound impression 
as a deep thinker, an accurate reasoner, and a man of enlarged 
and statesman-like views. 

He had been but a short time admitted to the bar ere he was 
chosen by his fellow-citizens to a seat in the Legislature of Vir- 
ginia. This was in 1769. Jefferson was then the largest slave- 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 101 

holder in the house. It is a remarkable evidence of his foresight^ 
his moral courage, and the love of liberty which then inspired 
him, that he introduced a bill empowering slaveholders to manumit 
their slaves if they wished to do so. Slavery caught the alarm. 
The proposition was rejected by an overwhelming vote. 

In 1770, Mr. Jefferson's house at Shadwell was burned to the 
ground ; and his valuable library, consisting of two thousand vol- 
umes, disappeared in the flames. He was absent from home at 
the time. A slave came to him with the appalling news. " But 
were none of my books saved ?" exclaimed Mr. Jefferson. "None," 
was the reply ; and then the face of the music-loving negro grow 
radiant as he added, " But, massa, we saved the fiddle." In after- 
years, when the grief of the irreparable loss was somewhat as- 
suaged, Mr. Jefferson was in the habit of relating this anecdote 
with much glee. 

He had inherited an estate of nearly two thousand acres of 
land, which he soon increased to five thousand acres. His income 
from this land, tilled by about fifty slaves, and from his practice 
at the bar, amounted to five thousand dollars a year, — a large 
sum in those times. 

In 1772, he married Mrs. Martha Skelton, a very beautiful, 
wealthy, and highly accomplished young widow. She brought to 
him, as her munificent dowry, forty thousand acres of land, and 
one hundred and thirty-five slaves. He thus became one of the 
largest slaveholders in Virginia : and yet he labored with all his 
energies for the abolition of slavery; declaring the institution to 
be a curse to the master, a curse to the slave, and an offence in 
the sight of God. 

Upon Mr. Jefferson's large estate at Shadwell, there was a ma- 
jestic swell of land, called Monticello, which commanded a pros- 
pect of wonderful extent and beautj% This spot Mr. Jefferson 
selected for his new home ; and here he reared a mansion of mod- 
est yet elegant architecture, which, next to Mount Vernon, became 
the most distinguished resort in our land. His wedding, which 
took place at the house of John Wayles, the father of the bride, 
who resided at a seat called " The Forest," in Charles-city County, 
was celebrated with much splendor. It was a long ride in their 
carriage, along the Valley of the James, to their secluded home 
among the mountains of Albemarle County. It was the month of 
January. As they drew near the hills, the ground was whitened 



102 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

with snow, which increased in depth as they advanced, until, 
when in the evening they were entering the mountains, they 
found the road so obstructed, that they were compelled to leave 
their carriage at a dilapidated house, and mount their horses 
It was a cold winter's night. The snow was two feet deep along 
the raountain-track which they were now threading. Late at 
uighl, shivering and weary, they reached the summit of the hill, 
nearly six hundred feet above the level of the stream at its base. 

Here a gloomy reception awaited them. There were no lights 
in the house : all the fires were out. The slaves were soundly 
asleep in their cabins. But youth and prosperity and love could 
convert this " horrible dreariness " into an occasion of mirth and 
fun and laughter. 

With his large estates, and his retinue of servants, Mr. Jeffer- 
son could afford to indulge in the luxury of magnificent horses. 
He usually kept half a dozen high-blooded brood-mares. He was 
very particular about his saddle-horse. It is said that, when quite 
a young man, if there was a spot on the horse, when led out, which 
would soil a linen handkerchief, the groom was sure of a severe 
reprimand. 

There was, about this time, a British vessel, " The Gaspee," sta- 
tioned in Narragansett Bay to enforce the revenue-laws. The 
insolence of its officers had led, in June, 1772, to its being de- 
coyed aground, and burned. The British Government retaliated 
by passing a law that the wilful destruction of the least thing 
belonging to the navy should be punishable with death. At the 
same time, a court of inquiry was sent over to try those impli- 
cated in the " Gaspee " affair, or to send them to England for trial 
should they choose to do so. 

Some very spirited resolutions were immediately drawn up by 
Thomas Jefferson, appointing a standing committee to obtain the 
earliest intelligence of all proceedings in England with regard to 
the colonies, and by communicating this knowledge, in correspond- 
ence with the sister colonies, to prepare for united action in op- 
posing any infringement of colonial rights. This was the intent 
of the resolutions. They were so skilfully worded, that even the 
moderate party could not refuse to vote for them. But the then 
governor, the Earl of Dunmore, manifested his displeasure by im- 
mediately dissolving the house. The committee, however, met 
the next day sent a copy of the resolutions to the other colonies, 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 103 

and requested them to appoint a committee to correspond with 
the Virginia committee. Thougli Massachusetts had two years 
before made a similar movement, for some unexplained reason the 
measure did not go into action ; and Jeiferson is justly entitled to 
the honor of having put into operation the " Committees of Cor- 
respondence," which afterwards became so potent in resisting the 
encroachments of the British crown. 

When the British cabinet, in 1774, enacted the Boston Port 
Bill, shutting up the harbor, and thus dooming Boston to ruin, 
Mr. Je£ferRon and a few of his associates met, and, as a measure 
to rouse the people of all the colonies to sympathetic action with 
Massachusetts, drew up some resolutions, appointing a day of 
fasting and prayer " to implore Heaven to avert from us the evil 
of civil war, to inspire us with firmness in support of our rights, 
and to turn the hearts of the king and parliament to moderation 
and justice." Mr. Nichols, a man of grave and religious charac- 
ter, moved the resolutions ; and they were adopted without opposi- 
tion. The governor was so irritated, that he dissolved the house, 
declaring that the measure " was a high reflection upon hia 
Majesty and the Parliament of Great Britain." 

The members of tlie Colonial Court, after the dissolution, met in 
association, received into their number several clergymen and 
private citizens, denounced the course of England, declared it 
unpatriotic to purchase any of the articles which she had taxed, 
avowed that they considered an attack on one colon}'^ an attack on 
all, and recommended a General Annual Congress. This was in 
the spring of 1774. Thomas JeflFerson, Patrick Henry, and the 
two Lees, "were the active agents in this important movement. 
The clergy entered into the measures with earnest patriotism. 
The day of prayer was almost universally observed with appro- 
priate discourses. Mr. Jefferson writes, " The effect of the day 
through the whole colony was like a shock of electricity, arousing 
every man, and placing him erect and solidly on his centre." 

Mr. Jefferson was now very thoroughly aroused ; and he was 
busy with voice and pen in the assertion, that the American colo- 
nies had a right to govern themselves through their own legisla- 
tures. He wrote a pamphlet entitled ''A Summary View of the 
Rights of British America." It attracted so much attention, that 
it was published in several editions in England, The British had 
now unsheathed the sword at Lexington, and Jefferson was in 



104 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

favor of decisive measures. His pen was ever active, and everj 
line that came from it was marked with power. 

At the meeting of the second convention of Virginia, in March, 
1775, the resolution was adopted, earnestly advocated by Jeffer- 
son, to put the colony into a state of defence by embodying, arm- 
ing, and disciplining a sufficient number of men. George Wash- 
ington and Thomas Jefferson were on the committee to carry 
thes(^ resolutions into effect. 

On the 11th of June, 1775, Mr. Jefferson left "Williamsburg to 
take his seat in the Colonial Congress at Philadelphia. He trav- 
elled in a phaeton, leading two spare horses ; and was ten days in 
making a journey which can now be accomplished in as many 
hours. The roads were so intricate and unfrequented, that, at 
times, he had to hire guides. Congress had been in session six 
weeks when he arrived ; and he was the youngest member in the 
body but one. His reputation as a writer had preceded him ; and 
he immediately took a conspicuous stand, though he seldom spoke. 
John Adams, in his autobiography, alluding to the favorable im- 
pression which Mr. Jefferson made, writes, — 

" Though a silent member in Congress, he was so prompt, frank, 
explicit, and decisive upon committees and in conversation (not 
even Samuel Adams was more so), that he soon seized upon my 
heart." 

Blunt, brave-hearted, magnanimous, John Adams could not brook 
opposition, and he was ever involved in quarrels. The impetuous, 
fiery debater, is, of course, more exposed to this than the careful 
writer who ponders the significance of every word. The native 
suavity of Jefferson, his modesty, and the frankness and force 
with which he expressed his views, captivated his opponents. It 
is said that he had not an enemy in Congress. In five days after 
he had taken his seat, he was appointed on a committee to pre- 
pare an address on the causes of taking up arms. The produc- 
tion was mainly from his pen. It was one of the most popular 
documents ever written, and was greeted with enthusiasm from 
the pulpit and in the market-place. It was read at the head of 
the armies amidst the booming of cannon and the huzzas of the 
soldiers. Yet Thomas Jefferson suffered the reputation of the 
authorship to rest with one of his associates on the committee all 
his life long. It was only after the death of both Jefferson and 
Dickinson that the real author of the document was publicly 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 105 

known. These traits of character which are thus developed, one 
after another, surely indicate a very noble and extraordinary man. 
It is a remarkable fact, that decided as he was in his views, never 
in the slightest degree a trimmer, he won the confidence and the 
affection both of the most radical men of the progressive party, 
and the most cautious of the conservatives. John Adanifi on the 
one side, and John Dickinson on the other, were warm personal 
friends of Thomas Jefferson. 

Soon after this, on the 22d of July, a committee, consisting of 
Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and Richard 
H. Lee, were appointed to report on Lord North's "conciliatory 
proposition." Jefferson, the youngest member in the house, was 
chosen by these illustrious colleagues to draught the paper. 

Even as late as the autumn of 1775, Mr. Jefferson was hoping 
for reconciliation with England. Li a letter to Mr. Randolph, who 
had sided with the British, and was about to sail for England, he 
wrote, — 

" I am sincerely one of those who still wish for re-union with 
the parent country ; and would rather be in dependence on Great 
Britain, properly limited, than on any nation upon earth, or than 
on no nation. But I am one of those too, who, rather than sub- 
mit to the rights of legislating for us assumed by the British Par- 
liament, and which late experience has shown they will so cruelly 
exercise, would lend my hand to sink the whole island in the 
ocean." 

Three months after this, roused by the ferocity which the Brit- 
ish ministry were displaying, he wrote to the same man, then in 
England, in tones of almost prophetic solemnity and indignsr 
tion : — 

"Believe me, dear sir, there is not in the British Empire a man 
who more cordially loves a union with Great Britain than I do: 
but, by the God that made me, I will cease to exist before I yield 
to a connection on such terms as the British Parliament propose ; 
and in this I think I speak the sentiments of America." 

At length, the hour came for draughting the " Declaration of In- 
dependence." The responsible task was committed to the pen of 
Jefferson. Franklin and Adams suggested a few verbal correc- 
tions before it was fiubmitted to Congress. The immortal docu- 
ment was presented to the Congress on the 28th of June, 1776, 
and was adopted and signed on the 4th of July. The Declaration 

14 



106 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

passed a fiery ordeal of criticism. For three days, the debate 
continued. Mr. Jefferson opened not his lips. " John Adams," it 
has been said, " was the great champion of the Declaration on the 
floor, fighting fearlessly for every word of it, and with a power 
to which a mind masculine and impassioned in its conceptions, a 
will of torrent-like force, a heroism which only glared forth more 
luridly at the approach of danger, and a patriotism whose burning 
throb was rather akin to the feeling of a parent fighting over his 
offspring than to the colder sentiment of tamer minds, lent resist- 
less sway." 

The comic and the tragic, the sublime and the ridiculous, are 
ever blended in this world. One may search all the ages to find 
a more solemn, momentous event than the signing of the Decla- 
ration of Independence. It was accompanied with prayer to 
Almighty God. Silence pervaded the room as one after another 
aflttxed his name to that document, which brought down upon him 
the implacable hate of the mightiest power upon the globe, and 
which doomed him inevitably to the scaffold, should the feeble 
colonies fail in the unequal struggle. In the midst of this scene, 
Benjamin Harrison, a Virginia grandee of immense corpulence, 
weighing something like a third of a ton, looked down upon Mr. 
Gerry, a small, fragile, slender man, whom a breath of wind 
would almost blow away, and remarked, with a characteristic 
chuckle, — 

" Gerry, when the hanging comes, 1 shall have the advantage. 
You'll kick in the air half an hour after it is all over with me." 

The colonies were now independcDt States. Jefferson resigned 
for a time his seat in Congress to aid in organizing the govern- 
ment of Virginia. Here we first meet in public with a young 
man — James Madison — of refined culture, of polished address, 
of keen powers of reasoning, of spotless purity of character, with 
whose name the future of the nation became intimately blended. 

In 1779, Mr. JeSerson was chosen Governor of Virginia. He 
was then thirty-six years of age. The British were now prepar- 
ing to strike their heaviest blows upon Georgia and the Caro- 
linas. Establishing themselves in those thinly populated States, 
they intended thence to march resistlessly towards the North. A 
proclamation was also issued declaring the intention of Great 
Britain to devastate the colonies as utterly as possible, that, in the 
■event of the success of the Revolution, they might prove value 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 107 

less to France, who had become our ally. When Jefferson took 
the chair of state, Georgia had fallen helpless into the hands 
of the foe ; South Carolina was invaded, and Charleston threat- 
ened ; the savages on the Ohio and the Mississippi, provided 
with British arms, and often led by British oflScers, were perpe- 
trating horrid outrages on our frontiers. 

In these trying hours, Mr. Jefferson, with all the energies of his 
mind and heart, sustained Gen. Washington, ever ready to sacri- 
fice all local interests for the general cause. At one time, tho 
British ofiicer, Tarleton, sent a secret expedition to Monticello to 
capture the governor. Scarcely five minutes elapsed, after the 
hurried escape of Mr. Jefferson and his family, ere his mansion 
was in the possession of the British troops. Mr. Jefferson had a 
plantation at Elk Hill, opposite Elk Island, on the James River. A 
detachment of the army of Cornwallis, in their march north from 
the Carolinas, seized it. The foe destroyed all his crops, burnt 
his barns and fences, drove off the cattle, seized the serviceable 
horses, cut the throats of the colts, and left the whole plantation 
a smouldering, blackened waste. Twenty-seven slaves were also 
carried off. " Had he carried off the slaves," says Jefferson with 
characteristic magnanimity, "to give them freedom, he would 
have done right." A large number of these slaves died of putrid 
fever, then raging in the British camp. Of all this, Mr. Jefferson 
never uttered a complaint. 

In September, 1776, Congress had chosen Franklin, Jefferson, 
and Silas Deane, commissioners to negotiate treaties of alliance 
and commerce with France. Jefferson declined the appointment, 
as he deemed it necessary that he should remain at home to assist 
in the organization of the State Government of Virginia. As gov- 
ernor, he had rendered invaluable service to the common cause. 
He was now, in June, 1781, again appointed to co-operate with 
Adams, Franklin, Jay, and Laurens, in Europe, as ministers pleni- 
potentiary to treat for peace ; but the exceedingly delicate state 
of Mrs. Jefferson's health, who had suffered terribly from anxiety, 
exposure, and grief, and who was so frail that it would have been 
the extreme of cruelty to expose her and her two surviving chil- 
dren to the peril of capture by British ships then covering the 
ocean, or to leave her at home separated from her husband, while 
Tarleton, with savage ferocity, was sweeping the State in all 
directions, rendered it clearly his duty again to decline. 



108 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

About this time he was thrown from his horse, and quite seri. 
ously injured. This accident, and the sickness of his wife, confined 
him to his secluded forest home for several months. He improved 
the hours in writing his celebrated " Notes on Virginia." The 
work attracted much attention ; was republished in England and 
France, and introduced his name favorably to the philosophers of 
the Continent. It is still a perplexing question how it was possi- 
ble for Mr. Jefferson, in those days when Virginia was in many 
parts almost an unexplored wilderness, ranged by Indians, with 
scarcely any roads, to have obtained the vast amount of minute 
and accurate information which he has presented in these Notes. 
The whole is written in a glowing style of pure and undefiled 
English, which often soars to the eloquent. 

But man is born to mourn. In every life, there come days 
which are " cold and dark and dreary." It was now the latter 
part of the year 1781. Jefferson, like Washington, was exces- 
sively sensitive to reproach ; while at the same time both of these 
illustrious men possessed that noble nature which induced them 
to persevere in the course which seemed to be right, notwith- 
standing all the sufferings which calumny could heap upon them. 
A party rose in Virginia, dissatisfied with the course Jefferson had 
pursued in his attempt to repel the invaders of the State. They 
tried to drive him from his office, crush his reputation, and raise a 
dictator to occupy his place. The indignity pierced him to the 
quick. He was too proud to enter upon a defence of himself. 
His wife, one of the most lovely and loving of Christian ladies, 
and to whom he was attached with a romance of affection never 
exceeded, was sinking away in lingering death. There was no 
hope of her recovery. The double calamity of a pitiless storm of 
vituperation out of doors, and a dying wife within, so affected his 
spirits, that he resolved to retire from public life, and to spend the 
remainder of his days in the quietude of his desolated home. It 
was indeed a gloomy day which was now settling down around 
him. 

He had been pursued like a felon, from place to place, by the 
British soldiery. His property had been wantonly and brutally 
destroyed, ^l^any of his slaves whom he loved, and whose freedom 
he was laboring to secure, had perished miserably. He was suf- 
fering from severe pen-onal injuries caused by the fall from hia 
horse. His wife was uymg, and his gcod name was fiercely 
assailed. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 109 

Mrs. Jefferson was a Christian, a loving disciple of the Re« 
deemer. But there were no cheering Christian hopes to sustain 
the sinking heart of her husband ; for he had many doubts respect- 
ing the truth of Christianity. He must often have exclaimed in 
anguish of spirit, " Oh that I could believe ! " The poison of 
scepticism had been early instilled into his nature ; and in these 
hours of earthly gloom he had no faith, no hope, to support him. 
Happy is he, who, in such seasons of sorrow, can by faith hear 
a Saviour's voice whispering to him, " Let not your heart be 
traubled." Beautifully has Jefferson's biographer, Mr. Randall, 
said, in describing these scenes, — 

" The faithful daughter of the Church had no dread of the here- 
after ; but she yearned to remain with her husband, with that 
yearning which seems to have power to retard even the ap- 
proaches of death. Her eyes were rested on him, ever followed 
him. When he spoke, no other sound could reach her ear or 
attract her attention. When she waked from slumber, she lookeil 
momentarily alarmed and distressed, and even appeared to be 
frightened, if the customary form was not bending over her, the 
customary look upon her." 

For weeks, Mr. Jefferson sat lovingly, but with a crushed heart, 
at that bedside. Unfeeling letters were sent to him, accusing him 
of weakness, of unfaithfulness to duty, in thus secluding himself 
at home, and urging him again to come forth to life's great battle. 
For four months, Jefferson was never beyond the call of his dying 
wife. No woman could have proved a more tender nurse. He 
seemed unwilhng that any one else should administer to her medi- 
cine and drink. When not at her bedside, he was writing in a 
closet which opened at the head of her bed. She died on the 6th 
of September, 1782. Who can imagine the anguish which a warm- 
hearted man must feel in witnessing the death of a wife whom he 
loved almost to adoration, and unsustained by that hope of re-union 
in heaven which a belief in Christianity confers ? His distress 
was so terrible, that his friends were compelled to lead him from 
the room, almost in a state of insensibility, before the scene was 
closed. With difficulty they conveyed him into the library. He 
fainted entirely away, and remained so long insensible, that it was 
feared he never would recover. His eldest daughter, Mrs. Ran- 
dolph, writes, — 

" The violence of his emotion, when almost by stealth I entered 



110 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

his room at night, to this day I dare not trust myself to describe. 
He kept his room three weeks, and I was never a moment from 
his side. He walked almost incessantly night and day; only 
lying down occasionally, when nature was completely exhausted, 
on a pallet which had been brought in during his long fainting-fit. 
When, at last, he left his room, he rode out ; and from that time 
he was incessantly on horseback, rambling about the mountain, in 
the least-frequented roads, and just as often through the woods. 
In thos*^ melancholy rambles, I was his constant companion : a soli- 
tary witness to many violent bursts of grief, the remembrance of 
which has consecrated particular scenes of that lost home beyond 
the power of time to obliterate." 

The inscription which the philosopher, uncheered by Christian 
faith, placed upon the gravestone of his companion, one cannot 
but read with sadness. It was a quotation, in Greek, from the 
" Iliad," of the apostrophe of Achilles over the dead body of Hec- 
tor. The lines are thus freely translated by Pope : — 

" If, in the melancholy shades below, 
The flames of friends and lovers cease to glow, 
Yet mine shall sacred last ; mine, undecayed. 
Burn on through death, and animate my shade." 

Without the light which Christianity gives, death is, indeed, the 
king of terrors, and the grave retains its victory. Forty-four 
years after the death of Mrs. Jefferson, there were found in a 
secret drawer in a private cabinet, to which he frequently re- 
sorted, locks of hair, and various other little souvenirs of his wife, 
with words of endearment upon the envelopes. He never married 
again. This tenderness of affection in this man of imperial mind 
and inflexible resolve is one of the most marked traits of his 
character. 

The English ministry were now getting tired of the war. The 
opposition in Parliament had succeeded in carrying a resolution 
on the 4th of March, 1782, "That all those who should advise, or 
by any means attempt, the further prosecution of offensive war in 
America, should be considered as enemies to their king and coun- 
try." This popular decision overcame the obstinacy of the king, 
and he was compelled to make overtures for peace. Mr. Jefferson 
was re-appointed on the 12th of November by Congress, unani- 
mously, and without a single adverse remark, minister plenipoten- 
tiary to negotiate a treaty. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. IH 

Alluding to this, he writes to a friend, " Your letter found me 
a little emerging from the stupor of mind which had rendered me 
as dead to the world as she whose loss occasioned it. Before that 
event, my scheme of life had been determined. I had folded my- 
self in the arms of retirement, and rested all prospects of future 
happiness on domestic and literarj'- objects. In this stats of mind, 
an appointment from Congress found me, requiring me to crosB 
the Atlantic." 

There were various and complicated obstacles in the way of hia 
departure ; while, in the mean time, the treaty of peace was effect- 
ed, and it became unnecessary for him to go upon that mission. 
Those who had assailed him had withdrawn their accusations, and 
legislative enactment had done justice to his career. He was 
again elected to Congress. At this period, he wrote many affec- 
tionate letters to his daughters, who were then at school. These 
letters reveal the heart of a watchful and loving father. Martha, 
who was at school at Annapolis, had been disturbed by some pre- 
dictions respecting the speedy end of the world. He writes to 
her, — 

" As to preparations for that event, the best way for you is to 
be always prepared for it. The only way to be so is never to do 
or say a bad thing. If ever you are about to say any thing amiss, or 
to do any thing wrong, consider beforehand. You will feel some- 
thing within you which will tell you it is wrong, and ought not to 
be said or done. This is your conscience, and be sure to obey. 
Oar Maker has given us all this faithful internal monitor ; and, if 
you always obey it, you will always be prepared for the end of the 
world, or for a much more certain event, — which is death. This 
must happen to all. It puts an end to the world as to us ; and 
the way to be ready for it is never to do a wrong act." 

Her sainted Christian mother would have added to this most 
excellent advice, ''And, my dear child, pray night and morning 
to your heavenly Father that he will help j^ou to do right, and to 
resist temptation to do wrong. And, when you feel your own 
unworthiness, do not be disheartened. God is a loving Father. 
He has given his Son to die for us ; and, sinners as we all are, we 
can be forgiven if we repent, and trust in him." 

In March, 1784, Mr. Jefferson was appointed on a committee to 
draught a plan for the government of that immense region called 
the North-western Territory. The draught is still preserved ia 



112 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

his handwriting in Washington. True to his unwavering princi- 
ple of devotion to the rights of humanity, he inscribed in the 
ordinance the provision, " That, after the year 1800 of the Chris- 
tian era, there shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude 
in any of the said States, otherwise than in punisliment of crimes 
whereof the party shall have been duly convicted to have been 
personally guilty." This clause was stricken out by motion of 
Mr. Spaight of North Carolina, seconded by Mr. Read of South 
Carolina. 

Mr. Jefferson had wonderful power of winning men to his 
opinions, while he scrupulously avoided all controversy. The 
following extract from a letter to his grandson brings clearly to 
light this trait in his character : — 

" In stating prudential rules for our government in society, I 
must not omit the important one of never entering into dispute or 
argument with another. I never yet saw an instance of one of 
two disputants convincing the other by argument. I have seen 
many of them getting warm, becoming rude, and shooting one 
another. Conviction is the effect of our own dispassionate rea- 
soning, either in solitude, or weighing within ourselves dispas- 
sionately what we hear from others, standing uncommitted in 
argument ourselves. It was one of the rules, which, above all 
others, made Dr. Franklin the most amiable of men in society, 
' never to contradict anybody.' " 

Jefferson was by nature a gentleman, — affable, genial, courteous, 
considerate to the poor. Thus he was a great favorite with all 
who knew him. Stormy as were the times in which he lived, he 
never got into a personal altercation w^ith any one, never gave or 
received a challenge, and was never known to encounter a per- 
sonal insult. 

In May, 1784, Congress appointed Mr. Jefferson to act as minister 
plenipotentiary with Mr. Adams and Dr. Franklin in negotiating 
treaties of commerce with foreign nations. Leaving two daugh- 
ters with their maternal aunt, one six years of age, and the other 
a frail babe of two years, who soon died, he took his eldest daugh- 
ter Martha with him, and sailed for Europe on the 5th of July 
from Boston. After a delightful voyage, he reached Paris on the 
6th of August. Here he placed his daughter at school, and, meet- 
ing his colleagues at Passy, engaged vigorously with them in ac- 
complishing the object of his mission. Dr. Franklin, now aged 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 113 

and infirm, obtained permission to return home from his embassy 
to France. His genial character, combined with his illustrious 
merit, had won the love of the French people ; and he was 
unboundedly popular with both peasant and prince. Such atten- 
tions were lavished upon him in his journey from Paris to the 
coast, that it was almost an ovation. It was, indeed, a delicate 
matter to step into the position which had been occupied by oae 
Bo enthusiastically admired. Few men could have done this so 
gracefully as did Jefferson. 

" You replace M. Franklin, I hear," said the celebrated French 
minister, the Count de Vergennes. " I succeed him," was the 
prompt reply : " no man can replace him." 

The French officers who had served in America had carried 
back glowing reports of Mr. Jefferson, as the accomplished gen- 
tleman, the brilliant scholar and philosopher, and the profound 
statesman. One of his noble visitors, the Count Chastellux, had 
written a graphic account of his elegant mountain-home, amidst 
the sublime solitudes of the Alleghanies, where, from his veranda, 
be looked down upon countless leagues of the primeval forest, and 
where the republican senator administered the rites of hospitality 
with grace which would have adorned the saloons of Versailles. 
Jefferson and Franklin were kindred spirits. They were both on 
the most friendly terms with the French minister. 

" I found the Count de Vergennes," writes Mr. Jefferson, " as 
frank, as honorable, as easy of access to reason, as a;ny man with 
whom I had ever done business." 

Even Mr. Adams's dogmatic spirit was mollified by the urbanity 
of his colleague, and the most sincere attachment existed between 
them. Mrs. Adams, who stood upon the highest platform of moral 
excellence, and who was a keen judge of character, was charmed 
with Mr. Jefferson, and wrote to her sister that he was " the chosen 
of the earth." 

His saloon was ever crowded with the choicest society of Paris. 
If any distinguished stranger came to the gay metropolis, he was 
sure to find his way to the hotel of the American ambassador. No 
foreign minister, with the exception of Franklin, was ever so 
caressed before. The gentleness and refinement of French man- 
ners possessed great charms for one of his delicate and sensitive 
nature. " Here," he wrote, " it seems that a man might pass his 
life without encountering a single rudeness." 

16 



114 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Still he was very much opposed to Americans going to Europe 
for an education. He said that they were in danger of acquiring 
a fondness for European luxury and dissipation, and would look 
with contempt upon the simplicity of their own country ; that 
they would be fascinated by the privileges enjoyed by the aris- 
tocracy ; that they would lose that perfect command of their own 
language which can never be acquired if neglected during the 
period between fifteen and twenty years of age. " It appears to 
me, then/' he says, " that an American coming to Europe for edu- 
cation loses in his knowledge, in his morals, in his health, in his 
habits, and in his happiness." 

Mr. Jeflerson occupied in Paris a very fine house on the Champs 
Elysees he had also taken some rooms in the Carthusian monas- 
tery, on Mount Calvary. When business pressed him, he would 
retire, aud bury himself for a time in the unbroken solitude of 
this retreat. He was deeply impressed with the degradation and 
oppression of the great mass of the French people ; and his 
detestation of the execrable government under which France 
groaned increased every day. As he pondered the misery into 
which twenty millions of people were plunged through that terri- 
ble despotism which had been the slow growth of ages, and which 
placed all the wealth, honor, and power of the realm in the hands 
of a few noble families, he often expressed the conviction, which 
was ever after the first article in his political creed, that our lib- 
erties could never be safe unless they were placed in the hands 
of the masses of the people, and those people were well edu- 
cated. 

In France, he found universally kind and respectful feelinga 
towards our country. The philosophers and all the thinkers were 
charmed with the new era of republican liberty which we had 
introduced ; and even the court, gratified that we had been the 
instrument of humbling the intolerable arrogance of Great Britain, 
was ever ready to greet with words of most cordial welcome 
the representatives of the United States. There never has been 
a story more falsely told, never a perversion of history more 
thorough, than the usual representations which have been made 
of the French Revolution, — the most sublime conflict, the most 
wimderful tragedy, of all the ages. The combined despotic courts 
of Europe endeavored to crush the people in their despairing 
struggle to shake off the fetters which had eaten through tho 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 115 

flesh to the bone : and then, having fastened tlie fetters on again 
and riveted them anew, the hireling advocates of these despt tisms 
gave their own base version of the story to the world. 

In the despairing hours of this conflict, the French people weie 
at times driven to such frenzy as to lose all self-control. The 
spirit with which they were assailed maddened them. "Kings 
and queens," wrote an Austrian princess, " should no more heed 
the clamors of the people than the moon heeds the barking of 
dogs." The sympathies of Jefferson were always with the people 
struggling for popular rights ; never Avith those struggling to 
crush those rights. In March, 1786, he went to London with Mr. 
Adams to negotiate a treaty of commerce. His sensitive nature 
keenly felt the insulting coldness of his reception. " On my pres- 
entation as usual to the king and queen," he writes, " it was im- 
possible for any thing to be more ungracious than their notice of 
Mr. Adams and myself" Speaking of the delicacy of his mental 
organization, the Hon. Mr. Coles of Philadelphia, a life-long friend 
of Jefferson, writes, " He not only could never enter on any free- 
dom in manners or conversation himself, but any approach to a 
broad one in his presence made him literally blush like a boy." 

His sympathies with France were increased by the conviction, 
which he never hesitated to avow, that, but for the aid which we 
derived from that country, we never could have gained our inde- 
pendence. In a letter written about this time, he gives the fol- 
lowing as his estimate of the character of his illustrious colleague, 
John Adams: — 

" You know the opinion I formerly entertained of my friend 
Mr. Adams. A seven-months' intimacy with him here, and as 
many weeks in London, have given me opportunities of studying 
him closely. He is vain, irritable, and a bad calculator of the 
force and probable effect of the motives which govern men. This 
is all the ill which can possibly be said of him. He is as disinter- 
ested as the Being who made him. He is profound in his views, 
and accurate in his judgment, except where knowledge of the 
world is necessary to found judgment. He is so amiable, that I 
pronounce you will love him if ever you become acquainted with 
him. He would be, as he was, a great man in Congress." 

Jefferson was present at the opening of the Assembly of Nota* 
bles, at Versailles, on the 22d of February, 1787. Soon after, he 
wrote to Lafayette, " Keeping the good model of your neighbor- 



116 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

ing country before yonr eyes, you may yet get on, step by step, 
towards a good constitution. Though that model is not perfect, 
as it would unite more suffrages than any new one which could 
be proposed, it is better to make that the object. If every ad- 
vance is to be purchased by filh'ng the royal coffers with gold, it 
will be gold well emploj^ed." 

This was the plan of Lafayette and his coadjutors to establish 
popular rights in France under a monarchy framed on the model 
of the British Constitution. Jefferson agreed with these men in 
their wish to maintain the monarchical form of government, as the 
best for them. But he would surround it w?th republican institu- 
tions. He had great influence with all the patriot leaders, and was 
frequently consulted by them in their most important measures. 
While engaged in these matters of national interest, he wrote to 
his daughters, and watched over them with truly feminine tender- 
ness. He was a mother as well as a father tf) them. His letters 
were filled with affection, and entered into the most minute details 
of the practical rules of life. To his daughter, who wished to 
incur some slight debt, he wrote, — 

" This is a departure from that rule which I wish to see you 
governed by through your whole life, — of nev^r buying any thing 
which you have not money in your pocket to p^y for. Be assured 
that it gives much more pain to the mind to bf» in debt, than to do 
without any article whatever which we may se^ra to want." 

It is the concurrent testimony of his childr^u and grandchil- 
dren, that, in all his domestic relations, he was rme of the most 
amiable of men; never speaking a harsh word, n'"ver manifesting 
sullenness or anger or irritation. His daughter M^^vtha, one of the 
most accomplished of ladies, writes, "Never, never did I witness a 
particle of injustice in my father. Never have I hP5>-rd him say 
a word, or seen him do an act, which I, at the time o*- afterwards, 
regretted. We venerated him as something wiser and better than 
other men. He seemed to know every thing, — even the thoughts 
of our minds, and all our untold wishes. We wondered that we 
did not fear him ; and yet we did not, any more than we did com. 
panions of our own age." In all their joys, in all their griefs, 
these motherless girls ran to their father. Never was there a 
more beautiful exhibition of the parental tie. 

All the honors which Mr. Jefferson received seemed to produce 
no change in the simplicity of his republican tastes. To one of 
the friends of his early years he wrote at this time, — 



THOMAS JEFFERSOm 11'? 

" There are minds which can be pleased by honors and prefer- 
ments ; but I see nothing in them but envy and enmity. It is 
only necessary to possess them to know how little they contribute 
to happiness, or rather how hostile they are to it. I had rather be 
shut up in a very modest cottage with my books, my family, and 
a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world 
roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post which 
any human power can give.'* 

And now the king's troops, with clattering cavalry and lumber- 
ing artiller}^, came pouring into the streets of Paris to crush the 
patriots. No reform was to be permitted, no constitution to be 
allowed. The cry of perishing millions, ragged, starving, was to 
be answered with the sword, the musket, and the cannon. Mr. 
Jefferson, in his carriage, chanced to witness the first coHision 
between the royal troops and the people in the Place of Louis 
XV. It is difficult to turn away from the sublime and tremendous 
scenes which now ensued ; but this brief sketch compels us to 
omit them all. The demolition of the Bastille ; the rush of Paris 
upon Versailles ; the capture of the king and queen, and their 
transportation to the Tuileries ; the attempted flight, arrest, 
trial, imprisonment, execution, — where is there to be found 
another such drama in the annals of time ? Jefferson thought, 
that, could the weak but kind-hearted king have been left to him- 
self, he would in good fa^ith have accepted and carried out the 
contemplated reforms. 

Amidst these stormy scenes, the National Assembly conferred 
the unprecedented compliment upon Mr. Jefferson of inviting him 
to attend and assist in their deliberations; but he felt constrained 
to decline the honor, as his sense of delicacy would not allow 
him to take such a part in the internal transactions of a country to 
whose court he was a recognizocl ambassador. One day he re- 
ceived a note from Lafayette, informing him that he should bring 
a party of six or eight friends to ask a dinner of him the next 
day. They came, — Lafayette, and seven of the leading patriots, 
the representatives of different parties in the Assembly. The 
cloth being removed, after dinner, Lafayette introduced the object 
of the meeting, remarking that it was necessary to combine their 
energies, or all was lost. The conference continued for six hours, 
— from four in the afternoon until ten at night : "During which 
time," writes Jefferson, " I was a silent witness to a coolness and 



118 LIVES OF TOE PRESIDENTS. 

candor of argument unusual in the conflicts of political opinion; 
to a logical reasoning and chaste eloquence, disfigured by no 
gaudy tinsel of rhetoric or declamation, and truly worthy of being 
placed in parallel with the finest dialogues of antiquity as handed 
to us by Xenophon, by Plato and Cicero." They agreed upon a 
single legislature, giving the king a veto. 

Mr. Jefferson, considering his relation to the court, was placed 
in a very embarrassing situation in having such a conference thus 
held at his house. With his characteristic frankness, he promptly 
decided what to do. The next morning, he waited on Count 
Montmoiin, the minister of the king, and explained to him just 
how it had happened. The minister very courteously replied, 
that he already knew every thing that had passed ; and that, 
instead of taking umbrage at the use thus made of his house, he 
would be glad to have Mr. Jefierson assist at all such conferences, 
being sure that his influence would tend to moderate the warmer 
spirits, and to promote only salutary reform. 

Soon after this, Mr. Jefi"erson returned to America. As Ave have 
mentioned, his departed wife had been a member of the Episcopal 
Church. Her eldest daughter, Martha, had all her moral and re- 
ligious feelings educated in that direction. Her father never 
uttered a word to lead his children to suppose that he had any 
doubts respecting Christianity. He attended the Episcopal Church 
with them, and devoutly took part in the responses. In France, 
Mr. Jefferson had placed his daughters at school in a convent. 
Martha, a serious, thoughtful, reverential girl, of fine mind and 
heart, became very deeply impressed with the seclusion, the de- 
votion, the serene life, of Panthemont. Having one of those 
sensitive natures peculiarly susceptible to such influences, and 
dreaming of finding freedom in the cell of the nun from the frivoli- 
ties, turmoil, and temptations of life, she wrote to her father for 
permission to remain in the convent, and to dedicate herself to 
(he duties of a religious life. 

A few days passed, and there was no answer. Then her fa- 
ther's carriage rolled up to the door of the convent. Martha, trem- 
bling, and with palpitating heart, advanced to meet him. He 
greeted her with almost more than his wonted cordiality and 
affection, held a short private interview with the abbess, and in- 
formed his daughters that he had come to take them away. The 
carriage rolled from the door, and their days in the convent wero 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 119 

ended. Martha, tall, graceful, beautiful, accomplished, was intro- 
duced to society, and became the ornament of her father's saloons ; 
and never was there the slightest allusion made, by word or letter, 
to her desire to enter the convent. In after-years, she spoke, with 
a heart full of gratitude, of her father's judicious course on the 
occasion. Her wish was not a deep religious conviction : it waa 
uierely the transient emotion of a romantic girl. 

This was in April, 1789. Jefferson had not expected to remain 
RO long in Europe. He was now anxious to return with bis 
daughters to his own country. We have spoken of the two par- 
ties then rising in the United States, one of which would rather 
favor England in commercial and legislative policy : the other 
would favor France. John Adams was a distinguished represen- 
tative of the English party. He scouted the idea that we owed 
any gratitude to France for her intervention in our behalf. Jef- 
ferson was prominently of the French party. In the following 
terms he expresses his views upon this subject, in a letter to Mr. 
James Madison. Speaking of the National Assembly in France, 
he says, — 

■" It is impossible to desire better dispositions toward us than 
prevail in this Assembly. Our proceedings have been viewed as 
a model for them on every occasion. I am sorry, that, in the mo- 
ment of such a disposition, any thing should come from us to check 
it. TIjc placing them on a mere footing with the English will 
have this effect. When, of two nations, the one has engaged her- 
self in a ruinous war for us; has spent her blood and money to 
save us; has opened her bosom to us in peace, and received us 
almost on the footing of her own citizens ; while the other haa 
moved heaven, earth, and hell, to exterminate us in war ; has in- 
sulted us in all her councils in peace ; shut her doors to us in 
every port \vhere her interests would permit it; libelled us in for- 
eign nations ; endeavored to poison them against the reception of 
our most precious commodities, — to place these two nations on a 
footing is to give a great deal more to one than to the other, if 
the maxim be true, that, to make unequal quantities equal, you 
must add more to one than to the other." 

Having obtained leave of absence, Jefferson left Paris, to re- 
turn to America, on the 23d of September, 1789. His numerous 
friends gathered around him on his departure, with the warmest 
demonstrations of admiration and love. It was supposed that he 



120 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



was leaving but for a short visit home. Had it been known that 
his departure was to be final, his unbounded popularity would 
have conferred upon him no less imposing demonstrations than 
those which had been lavished upon Benjamin Franklin." 

After the usual vicissitudes of a sea-voyage, Mr. Jefferson and 
his daugliters landed at Norfolk in December. There were no 
stages there in those days. They set out in a private carriage, 
borrowing horses of their friends, for Monticello ; which they 
reached on the 23d of December. They loitered on the way, 
making several friendly visits. Two or three days before rea?h. 
ing home, Mr. Jefferson sent an express to his overseer to have 
his house made ready for his reception. The news spread like 
wildfire through the negro-huts, clustered at several points over 
the immense plantation. The slaves begged for a holiday to re- 
ceive their master. The whole number, men, women, and chil- 
dren, at an early hour, dressed in their best, were straggling along 
towards the foot of the mountain to meet the carriage about two 
miles from the mansion. 





J! 




JEFFERSON S RCTUHN TO MONTICELLO. 




THOMAS JEFFERSON. 121 

After waiting several hours, a coach, drawn by four horses, waa 
Been approaching. The negroes raised a shout, and in a moment 
were surrounding the carriage. In spite of the entreaties of their 
master, — probably not very earnestly given, — they detached the 
horses, and, some dragging, some pushing, and all shouting at 
the top of their lungs, whirled the coach along until they reached 
the lawn in front of the house. As, in the midst of the wild uproar, 
Mr. Jefferson stepped from the carriage, a network of black, 
sinewy arms grasped him; and, with resounding triumph, he was 
borne up the steps and into liis home. 

With instinctive delicacy, " the crowd then respectfully broke 
apart for the young ladies ; and as the stately, graceful Martha, 
and the little fairy-like Maria, advanced between the dark lines, 
shouts rent the sk}^, and many a curly-headed urchin was held 
aloft to catch a look at what their mothers and sisters were 
already firmly persuaded could not be paralleled in the Ancient 
Dominion." 

Mr. Jefferson was, from beginning to end, an ardent admirer 
and warm supporter of Washington ; and the esteem was recipro- 
cal. Immediately upon his return from France, Washington wrote 
to him in the most flattering terms, urging upon him a seat in his 
cabinet as Secretary of State. After some conference, he ac- 
cepted the appointment. Martha, having forgotten her disposi- 
tion to be a nun, was married on the 23d of February, 1790, to a 
very splendid young man, — Col. Thomas M. Randolph. A few 
days after the wedding, on the 1st of March, Mr. Jefferson set out for 
New York, which was then the seat of government. He went 
by way of Richmond and Alexandria. The roads were horrible. 
At the latter place he took a stage, sending his carriage round 
by water, and leading his horses. Through snow and mud, their 
speed seldom exceeded three or four miles an hour by day, and 
one mile an hour by night. A fortnight, of great fatigue, wa8 
consumed in the journey. Occasionally, Jefferson relieved tho 
monotony of the dreary ride by mounting his led saddle-horse. 
At Philadelphia he called upon his friend Benjamin Franldin, 
then in his last illness. 

The American Revolution did not originate in hostility to a 
monarchical form of government, but in resisting the oppres- 
Bions which that government was inflicting upon the American 
people. Consequently, many persons, who were most active \u 

16 



122 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the Revolution, would have been very willing to see an inde. 
pendent monarchy established here. But Mr. Jefferson had seen 
so much of the pernicious influence of kings and courts in 
Europe, that he had become an intense republican. Upon his 
arrival in New York, he was much surprised at the freedom with 
which many persons advocated a monarchical government. He 
writes, — 

'•'I cannot describe the wonder and mortification with which 
the table-conversation filled me. Politics were the chief topic; 
and a preference of a kingly over a republican government was 
evidently the favorite sentiment. An apostate I could not be, nor 
yet a hypocrite ; and I found myself, for the most part, tlie only 
advocate on the republican side of the question, unless among the 
guests there chanced to be some member of that party from the 
legislative houses." 

Washington was constitutionally, and by all the habits of his 
life, averse to extremes. He was a sincere republican, and, being 
thoroughly national in his affections, kept as far as possible aloof 
from parties ; sacredly administering the government in accord- 
ance with the Constitution which he revered. In the great con- 
flict which has ensued, neither party has ventured very loudly 
to claim him. It cannot, however, be denied, that, with the Feder- 
alists, he felt the need of a little more strength in the National 
Government to meet the emergencies which the growing wealth, 
population, and power of the nation would eventually introduce. 
The great pressure which Adams and his friends had foreseen 
came when our civil war was ushered in. The government, strug- 
gling for very existence, instinctively grasped those powers vhich 
were found to be essential to its preservation ; scarcely stopping 
to ask whether the act were authorized by the Constitution or 
not. 

On the 1st of September, Mr. Jefferson set out for his liome 
in his private carriage. He took Mr. Madison with him. Thev 
stopped at Mount Vernon, and spent a few days with President 
Washington. His letters to his daughters, during his six-mouths' 
absence in New York, are truly beautiful as developments of pa- 
rental solicitude and love. To Maria he writes, who was then but 
twelve years of age, — 

" Tell me whether you see the sun rise every day ; how many 
pages a day you read in ' Don Quixote,' — how far you are ad. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 123 

vanced in him; whether you repeat a grammar-lesson every day, 
what else you read; how many hours a day you sew; whether 
you have an opportunity of continuing your music ; whether you 
know how to make a pudding yet, to cut out a beef-steak, to sow 
spinach, or to set a hen. Be good, my dear, as I have always 
found you ; never be angry with anybody, nor speak hard of them; 
tjy to let everybody's faults be forgotten, us you would wish yours 
to be ; take more pleasure in giving what is best to another than 
in having it yourself; and then all the world will love you, and I 
more than all the world. If your sister is with you, kiss her, and 
tell her how much I love her also." 

Mr. Jefferson remained at Monticello, in a delighted re-union 
with his loved and loving children, until the 8th of November, 
when his official duties called him back to New York. Mr. Madi- 
son again took a seat in his carriage, and again they paid the 
President a short visit at Mount Vernon. 

John Adams was then Vice-President ; Alexander Hamilton, 
Secretary of the Treasury. The favorable opinion which both 
these illustrious men entertained of the English Constitution was 
well known. Mr. Jefferson states, that at a small dinner-party 
which he gave early in 1791, both Adams and Hamilton being 
present, Mr. Adams said, speaking of the British Constitution, 
" Purge that constitution of its corruption, and give to its popu- 
lar branch equality of representation, and it will be the most per- 
fect constitution ever devised by the wit of man." Mr. Hamilton, 
after a moment's pause, said, " Purge it of its corruption, and give 
to its popular branch equality of representation, and it will become 
an impracticable government. As it stands at present, with all its 
supposed defects, it is the most perfect government which ever 
existed." — " This," says Mr. Jefferson, " was assuredly the exact 
line which separated the political creeds of these two gentlemen. 
The one was for two hereditary branches, and an honest elective 
one ; the other, for an hereditary king, with a house of lords and 
commons corrupted to his will, and standing between him and the 
people." 

In the later years of his life, Mr. Jefferson gave it as his opin- 
ion, that, though Mr. Adams had been originally a republican, the 
glare of royalty and nobility which he had witnessed in England 
had made him believe their fascination a necessar}^ ingredient in 
government. To throw light upon the political rupture whicu 



124 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

subsequently took place between Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, 
the following extract from one of Mr. Jefferson's letters, under 
date of May 8, 1791, will be read with interest : — 

" I am afraid the indiscretion of a printer has comm tted me 
with iny friend Mr. Adams, for whom, as one of the most honest 
and disinterested men alive, I have a cordial esteem, increased by 
long habits of concurrence of opinion in the days of his republi- 
canism ; and, even since his apostasy to hereditary monarchy and 
nobility, we differ as friends should do." 

Two months after this, Mr. Jefferson wrote a very friendly let- 
ter to Mr. Adams, in which he alludes to the difference which he 
supposed existed between them in reference to government. As- 
suming that both of these illustrious men Avere perfectly frank and 
honest, knowing that they were most intimately acquainted with 
each other, and had been so for years, discussing publicly and 
privately, on the floor of Congress and in committees, every con- 
ceivable point of national polity, and remembering that the slight 
estrangement which had now arisen originated in the fact that Mr. 
Adams had published a pamphlet expressing political views which 
Mr. Jefferson deemed so erroneous, that he wished to have an Eng- 
lish f amphlet, written by Thomas Paine, republished as an answer 
to them, we read with no little surprise Mr. Adams's reply, in 
which he says, — 

" You observe, ' That you and I differ in our ideas of the best 
form of government is well known to us both.' But, my dear sir, 
you will give me leave to say that I do not know this. I know 
not what your idea is of the best form of government. You and 
I have never had a serious conversation together, that I can recol- 
lect, concerning the nature of government. The very transient 
hints that have ever passed between us have been jocular and sq- 
perficial, without ever coming to an explanation. If you suppose 
that I have, or ever had, a design or desire of attempting to intro- 
duce a government of king, lords, and commons, or, in other 
words, an hereditary executive or an hereditary senate, either into 
the government of the United States or that of any individual 
State, you are wholly mistaken." 

In pondering this remarkable statement, there is a possible solu- 
tion of its apparent difBculty in the supposition, that while Mr. 
Adams considered the British Constitution, if purged as he had 
proposed, the best that had ever existed, he had still no idea 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 125 

whatever of attempting to make our Constitution give plat e to 
it. It has also been suggested, that, from the peculiarity of Mr. 
Adams's mind, he did not regard any thing in the light of political 
disquisition which did not embrace at least a folio or two. 

The flame of partisan feeling began now to burn more and more 
intensely throughout the whole length and breadth of the United 
States. Lafayette, in France, was then at the head of the patriot 
Ermy struggling against the despotisms of Europe, with the hope, 
daily becoming more faint, of establishing popular rights in his 
native land. Mr. Jefferson wrote to him under date of June 16 
1792,— 

" Behold you, then, my dear friend, at the head of a great army, 
establishing the liberties of your country against a foreign enemy. 
May Heaven favor your cause, and make you the channel through 
which it may pour its favors ! While you are extirpating the mon- 
ster aristocracy, and pulling out the teeth and fangs of its asso- 
ciate monarchy, a contrary tendency is discovered in some here. 
A sect has shown itself among us, who declare that they espoused 
our new Constitution, not as a good and suflScient thing in itself, 
but only as a step to an English Constitution, — the only thing 
good and sufficient in itself in their eyes. It is happy for us that 
these are preachers without followers, and that our people are 
firm and constant in their republican purity. You will wonder to 
be told that it is from the eastward chiefly that these champions 
for a king, lords, and commons, come." 

President Washington watched with great anxiety the rising 
storm, and did all he could to quell its fury. His cabinet was 
divided. Gen. Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury, was leader 
of the so-called Federal party. Mr. Jefl'erson, Secretary of State, 
was leader of the Republican party. On the 30th of September, 
1792, as he was going from Montlcello to the seat of government, 
he stopped, as usual, at Mount Vernon, and spent a night with 
President Washington. Mr. Jefferson makes the following rect»rd 
in his note-book of this interview, which shows conclusively that 
President Washington did not agree with Mr. Jefferson in his 
belief that there was a strong monarchical party in this coun-* 
try: — 

" The President," he writes, " expressed his concern at the dif- 
ferences which he found to subsist between the Secretary of the 
Treasury and myself, of which, he said, he had not been aware. 



i26 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

He kn'^w, indeed, that there was a marked difference in our poh'ti. 
cal sentiments ; but he had never suspected it had gone so far in 
producing a personal difference, and he wished he coi Jd be the 
mediator to put an end to it; that he thought it important to 
preserve the check of my opinions in the administration, in order 
to keep things in their proper channel, and prevent them from 
going too far ; that, as to the idea of transforming this government 
info a monarchy, he did not believe there were ten men in the United 
States, tvhose opinions were worth attention, who entertained such a 
thought.''^ 

Some important financial measures which were proposed by Mr. 
Hamilton, Mr. Jefferson violently opposed. They were, however, 
sustained by the cabinet, adopted by both houses of the legisla- 
ture, and approved by the President. The enemies of Mr. Jeffer- 
son now pressed him with the charge of indelicacy in holding 
office under a government whose leading measures he opposed. 
Bitter was the warfare waged between the two hostile secreta- 
ries. We now and then catch a glimpse of Washington in this 
bitter strife, endeavoring, like an angel of peace, to lay the storm. 
Hamilton accused Jefferson of lauding the Constitution in public 
while in private he had admitted that it contained those imperfec- 
tions of want of power which Hamilton laid to its charge. This 
accusation Avas so seriously made, that Mr. Jefierson sent a docu- 
ment to the President to disprove it, containing numerous extracts 
from his private and confidential correspondence. The President 
replied, under date of Oct. 18, 1792, — 

" I did not require the evidence of the extracts which you en- 
closed to me to convince me of your attachment to the Constitu- 
tion of the United States, or your disposition to promote the 
general welfare of this country : but I regret, deeply regret, the 
difference in opinions which has arisen, and divided you and 
another principal officer of the Government ; and I wish devoutly 
there could be an accommodation of them by mutual yieldings. 
I will frankly and solemnly declare, that I believe the views of 
both of you to be pure and well meant, and that experience only 
will decide with respect to the salutariness of the measures which 
are the subjects of dispute. I am persuaded that there is no dis- 
cordance in your views. I have a great, a sincere esteem and 
regard for you both, and ardently wish that some line could be 
marked out by which both of you could walk." 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 127 

The President seems to have been in accord with Mr. JelFerson 
in his views of the importance of maintaining cordial relations 
with France. Both England and Spain were then making en- 
croachments upon us, very menacing in their aspect. The Presi- 
dent, in a conversation with Mr. Jefferson, on the 27th of Decem- 
ber, 1792, urged the necessity of making sure of the alliance with 
France in the event of a rupture with either of these powers. 
" There is no nation," said he, " on whom we can rely at all times, 
but France.'- This had long been one of the fundamental princi- 
ples of Mr. Jefferson's policy. Upon the election of President 
Washington to his second term of office, Mr. Jefferson wished to 
retire from the cabinet. Dissatisfaction with the measures of the 
Government was doubtless a leading cause. At the earnest solici- 
tation, however, of the President, he consented to remain in his 
position, which was daily becoming more uncomfortable, until the 
last of Jul}^ when he again sent in his resignation. 

But still again President Washington so earnestly entreated 
him to remain, that, very reluctantly, he consented to continue in 
office until the close of the year. In the following extracts from 
a letter to James Madison, it will be seen how irksome the duties 
of his office had become to him : — 

" I have now been in the public service four and twenty years ; 
one-half of which has been spent in total occupation with their 
affairs, and absence from my own. I have served my tour, then. 
The motion of my blood no longer keeps time with the tumult of 
the world. It leads me to seek happiness in the lap and love of 
my family ; in the society of my neighbors and my books ; in the 
wholesome occupation of my farm and my affairs; in an interest 
or affection in every bud that opens, in every breath that blows 
around me; in an entire freedom of rest, of motion, of thought; 
owing account to myself alone of my hours and actions. 

" What must be the principle of that calculation which should 
balance against these the circumstances of my present existence 1 
— worn down with labors from morning to night, and day to day; 
knowing them as fruitless to others as they are vexatious to my- 
self; committed singly in desperate and eternal contest against a 
host, who are systematically undermining the public liberty and 
prosperity; even the rare hours of relaxation sacrificed to the 
society of persons in the same intentions, of whose hatred I am 
conscious, even in those moments of conviviality when the heart 



128 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

wishes most to open itself to the effusions of friendship and con- 
fidence ; cut off from my family and friends ; my affairs abandoned 
to chaos and derangement ; in short, giving every thing 1 love in 
exchange for every thing I hate ; and all this without a single 
gratification in possession or prospect, in present enjoyment or 
future wish." 

In the following terms, the President, on the 1st of January, 
1794, accepted Mr. Jefferson's final resignation: "I received yes- 
terday, with sincere regret, your resignation of the office of Secre- 
tary of State. Since it has been impossible to prevail upon you 
to forego any longer the indulgence of your desire for private life, 
the event, however anxious I am to avert it, must be submitted 
to ; but I cannot suffer you to leave your station without assur- 
ing you that the opinion which I had formed of 3^our integrity and 
talents, and which dictated your original nomination, has beer, 
confirmed by the fullest experience, and that both have been emi- 
nently displayed in the discharge of your duty." 

On the 5th of January, Mr. Jefferson, with his fragile, beauti- 
ful daughter Maria, left Philadelphia for his loved retreat at Monti- 
cello. On the 16th, he reached home. So utterly weary was he 
of public affairs, that he endeavored to forget them entirely. 
Four months after this, in May, he wrote to John Adams, then 
Vice-President, " I do not take a single newspaper, nor read 
one a month. I feel myself infinitely the happier for it." His 
landed estate at this time consisted of ten thousand six hundred 
and forty-seven acres. He had sold a considerable portion to pay 
off some debts with which his wife's patrimony was encumbered. 
His slaves amounted to one hundred and fifty-four. From the 
lawn at Monticello he could look down upon six thousand of his 
broad acres, spread out magnificently before him. He had thirty- 
four horses, five mules, two hundred and forty-nine cattle, three 
hundred and ninety hogs. Such an estate as this will not take 
care of itself; and he found, through his long absence from home, 
his fields exhausted, and his affairs in confusion. Nine months 
passed away in entire devotion to the cares of the farm, and in 
enjoying the endearments of his children and his grandchildren. 
President Washington then made another endeavor to call him 
back to the cabinet. In reply, Mr. Jefferson wrote to the Secreta- 
ry of State through whom the application came, — 

"No circumstances, my dear sir, will ever more tempt me to 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 129 

engage in any thing public. I thought myself perfectly tixed in 
this determination when 1 left Philadelphia; but every day and 
hour since has added to its inflexibility. It is a great pleasure to 
me to retain the esteem and approbation of the President; and this 
forms the only ground of any reluctance at being unable to com- 
ply with every wish of his." 

Every day the political horizon was growing more stormy. All 
Europe was in the blaze of war. England, the most p-owerful mon- 
archy on the globe, was straining every nerve to crush the Frencli 
Revolution. The haughty course which the British Government 
pursued towards the United States had exasperated even the pla- 
cid Washington. He wrote to Gen. Hamilton on the 31st of 
August, 1794,— 

" By these high-handed measures of that government, and the 
outrageous and insulting conduct ®f its officers, it would seem 
next to impossible to keep peace between the United States and 
Great Britain." 

Even John Adams became roused. Two years after, he wrote, 
in reference to the cool treatment which his son, John Quincy 
Adams, had received in England, "I am glad of it; for I would not 
have my son go as far as Mr. Jay, and affirn: the friendly dispo- 
sition of that country to this. I know better. I know their jeal- 
ousy, envy, hatred, and revenge, covered under pretended 
contempt." Jefferson's slumbering energies were electrified : he 
subscribed for a newspaper, wrote fiery letters, and, by his conver- 
sational eloquence, moved all who approached him. 

A new presidential election came on. John Adams was the 
Federal candidate; Thomas Jefierson, the Republican. It does not 
appear that Mr. Jefi"erson was at all solicitous of being elected. 
Indeed, he wrote to Mr. Madison, " There is nothing I so anxiously 
hope as that my name may come out either second or third ; as 
the last would leave me at home the whole of the year, and the 
other two-thirds of it." Alluding to the possibility that " the rep- 
resentatives may be divided," he makes the remarkable declara- 
tion, of the sincerity of which no one who knows the man can 
doubt, " This is a difficulty from which the Constitution has pro- 
vided no issue. It is both my duty and inclination, therefore, to 
relieve the embarrassment, should it happen ; and, in that case, I 
pray you, and authorize you fully, to solicit on my behalf that Mr. 
Adams may be preferred. He has always been my senior from the 

17 



130 LIV£S OF TBE PRESIDENTS. 

commencement of our public life ; and, the expression of the public 
will being equal, this circumstance ought to give him the pref 
erence." 

As the result of the election, Mr. Adams became President ; and 
Mr. Jefferson, Vice-President. This rendered it necessary for him 
to leave Monticello for a few months each year to attend the 
sessions of Congress. His numerous letters to his children show 
how weary he had become of party strife, with what reluctance he 
left his home, with what joy he returned to it. His correspond- 
ence is full of such expressions as the following : " I ought often- 
er, my dear Martha, to receive your letters, for the very great 
pleasure they give me, and especially when they express your af- 
fection for me ; for though I cannot doubt, yet they are among 
those truths, which, not doubted, we love to hear repeated. Here, 
too, they serve like gleams of light to cheer a dreary scene, where 
envy, hatred, malice, revenge, and all the worst passions of men, 
are marshalled to make one another as miserable as possible. I 
turn from this with pleasure to contrast it with your fireside, whero 
the single evening I passed at it was worth ages here." 

Again he writes to Maria, from Philadelphia, on the 1st of 
January, 1797, " Without an object here which is not alien to me, 
and barren of every delight, I turn to your situation with pleasure, 
in the midst of a good family which loves you, and merits all your 
love." It is a melancholy reflection that such enmities should 
have sprung up between men, and imbittered all their intercourse, 
who were alike true patriots, who were sincerely and earnestly 
seeking the good of their common country, and who only differed, 
and that conscientiously, respecting the best measures to be 
adopted for the national welfare. 

In June, 1800, Congress moved from Philadelphia to Washing 
ton. The new seat of government, literally hewn out of the wil- 
derness, was a dreary place. Though, for twelve years, workmen 
had been employed in that lonely, uninhabited, out-of-the-way 
spot, in putting up the public buildings, there was nothing as yet 
finished ; and vast piles of stone and brick and mortar were scat- 
tered at great distances from each other, with swamps or forests 
or sand-banks intervening. Transient huts were sprinkled about 
for the tvorkmen. The Capitol was built on a large swell of land ; 
and a mile and a half from it was the unfinished " President's 
House," with literally a mud-road between. No arrangements 
had been made for lodging or boarding the members of Congress, 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 131 

Mrs. John Adams, who had seen the residences of royalty in Eu- 
rope, — Buckingham Palace, Versailles, and the Tuileries, — gives 
an amusing account of their entrance upon the splendors of the 
•'• White House." In trying to find Washington from Baltimore, 
they got lost in the woods. After driving for some time, bewil- 
dered in forest paths, they chanced to come upon a black man, whom 
they hired to guide them through the forest. " The house," she 
writes, " is upon a grand and superb scale, requiring about thirty 
servants to attend, and keep the apartments in proper order, and 
perform the necessary business of the house and stables. The 
lighting the apartments, from the kitchen to parlors and cham- 
bers, is a tax indeed; and the fires we are obliged to keep, to se- 
cure us from daily agues, is another very cheering comfort. To 
assist us in this great castle, and render less attendance necessa- 
ry, bells are wholly wanting, not a single one being hung through 
the whole house ; and promises are all you can obtain. This is so 
great an inconvenience, that I know not what to do or how to do. 
If they will put me up some bells, and let me have wood enough 
to keep fires, I design to be pleased. I could content myself almost 
anywhere three months ; but, surrounded with forests, can you be- 
lieve that wood is not to be had, because people cannot be found 
to cut and cart it ? " 

The four years of Mr. Jefierson's Vice-Presidency passed joy- 
lessly away, while the storm of partisan strife between Federalist 
and Republican was ever growing hotter. Gen. Hamilton, who 
was a great power in those days, became as much alienated from 
Mr. Adams as from Mr. Jefferson. There was a split in the Fed- 
eral party. A new presidential election came on. Mr. Jefferson 
was chosen President ; and Aaron Burr, Vice-President. 

The news of the election of Jefferson was received in most paits 
of the Union with the liveliest demonstrations of joy. He was 
the leader of the successful and rapidly increasing party. His 
friends were found in every city and village in our land. They 
had been taught to believe that the triumph of the opposite party 
would be the triumph of aristocratic privilege and of civil and 
religious despotism. On the other hand, many of the Federalists 
turned pale when the tidings reached them that Thomas Jefi'erson 
was President of the United States. Both the pulpit and the 
press had taught them that he was the incarnation of all evil, — an 
infidel, an atheist, a scofier of all things sacred, a Jacobin, breath- 



132 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS, 

iag threatenings and slaughter. There is no exaggeration in Vah 
otatement, strong as it is. 

The following is an extract from Jefferson's inaugural. Nobler 
words were never uttered by one assuming power. That he was 
sincere in the utterance, and that the measures of his administra- 
tion were in conformity with the principles here laid down, nearly 
every man will now admit. 

•' About to enter, fellow-citizens, on the exercise of duties 
which comprehend every thing dear and valuable to you, it is pro- 
per that you should understand what I deem the essential princi- 
ples of our government, and consequently those which ought to 
shape its administration. I. will compress them within the nar- 
rowest compass they will bear, stating the general principle, but 
not all its limitations. 

" Equal and exact justice to all men, of whatever state or per- 
suasion, religious or political ; peace, commerce, and honest friend- 
shi»p with all nations, entangling alliances with none ; the support 
of the State governments in all of their rights, as the most compe- 
tent administrations for our domestic concerns, and the surest bul- 
warks against anti-republican tendencies ; the preservation of the 
General Government in its whole constitutional vigor, as the sheet- 
anchor of our peace at home, and safety abroad ; a jealous care of 
the right of election by the people, — a mild and safe corrective of 
abuses, which are topped by the sword of revolution where peace- 
able remedies are unprovided ; absolute acquiescence in the de- 
cisions of the majority, — the vital principle of republics, from which 
there is no appeal but to force, the vital principle and immediate 
parent of despotism ; a well-disciplined militia, — our best reliance 
in peace, and for the first moments of war, till regulars may relieve 
them ; the supremacy of the civil over the military authority ; 
economy in the public expense, that labor may be lightly bur- 
dened ; the honest payment of our debts, and sacred preservation of 
the public faith : encouragement of agriculture, and of commerce 
as its handmaid ; the diffusion cf information, and the arraign- 
ment of all abuses at the bar of public reason; freedom of religion; 
freedom of the press ; freedom of person, under the protection of 
the habeas corpus, and trial by juries impartially selected, — these 
principles form the bright constellation which has gone before us, 
and guided our steps through an age of revolution and reforma- 
tion." 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 133 

He closes with the following words : " And may that Infinite 
Power which rules the destinies of the universe lead our councils 
10 what is best, and give them a favorable issue for your peace and 
prosperity ! " 

Jefferson was exceedingly simple in his taste, having a morbid 
dislike of all that court etiquette which had disgusted him so much 
in Europe. Washington rode to the halls of Congress in state, 
drawn bj'' six cream-colored horses. For some unexplained reason, 
on the morning of his inauguration, Jefferson rode on horseback 
to the Capitol in a dress of plain cloth, without guard or servant, 
dismounted without assistance, and fastened the bridle of his horse 
to the fence. This certainly looks like the affectation of simplicity. 
It may be suggested, in excuse, that Mr. Jefferson had allowed his 
mind to become so thoroughly imbued with the conviction that 
our government was drifting towards monarchy and aristocracy, 
that he felt bound, in his official character, to set the example of 
extreme democratic simplicity. 

In this spirit he abolished levees, which, though he did not so' 
intend it, was a movement in an aristocratic direction ; for the 
levee threw the presidential mansion open to the most humble of 
the people. By its abolition, none could enter the White House 
but those who were specially invited. The invitations to dine 
were no longer given in the name of the " President of the United 
States," as Washington and Adams had given them, but in the 
name of " Thomas Jefferson." His views upon this subject may 
be inferred from the following remarks which he made upon the 
character of Washington. After speaking of him in the highest 
terms of eulogy, as one of the greatest and best men this world 
has ever known, he writes, — 

"I do believe that Gen. Washington had not a firm confidence 
in the durability of our government. He was naturally distrustful 
of men, and inclined to gloomy apprehensions ; and I was ever 
persuaded that a belief that we must at length end in something 
like a British Constitution had some weight in his adoption of the 
ceremonies of levees, birthdays, pompous meetings with Congress, 
and other forms of the same character, calculated to prepare us 
gradually for a change which he believed possible, and to let it 
come on with as little shock as might be to the public mind." 

Mr. Jefferson and his eldest grandson were one day riding in a 
carriage together. They met a slave, who respectfully took off 



1.14 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

his hat, and bowed. The President, according to his invariablii 
custom, returned the salutation by raising his hat. The young 
man paid do attention to the negro's act of civiHty. Mr. Jetifer- 
3on, after a few moments' pause, turned a reproachful eye to him. 
and said, " Thomas, do you permit a slave to be more of a gentle* 
man than yourself?" 

On another occasion, he was riding on horseback, accompanied 
by two young men, from Monticello to Charlottesville. They 
found Moore's Creek so swollen by a sudden shower, that the 
water was up to the saddle-girths. A man, with a saddle on his 
shoulders, was standing upon the bank. He looked at the young 
men as they rode through the stream, and said nothing; but, turn- 
ing to Mr. Jefferson, he asked permission to mount the croup 
behind him to be carried across. The President reined his horse 
up to a stone, and carried the man across. The countryman then 
dismounted, and trudged along the dusty road. Soon a party in 
the rear, who had witnessed the operation, came up. One inquired, 
" What made you let the young men pass, and ask the old gentle- 
man to carry you over the creek ? " The backwoodsman replied, 
in the broad patois of his region, " Wal, if you want to know, I'll 
tell you. I reckon a man carries * Yes ' or ' No ' in his face. The 
young chaps' faces said 'No;' the old'un's, 'Yes.'" — "It isn't every 
one," the other replied, " that would have asked the President of 
the United States for a ride behind him." — '' What," said the man, 
" you don't say that was Tom Jefierson, do youl " Then, pausing 
a moment, he added, " Wal, he's a fine old fellow, any way. What 
will Polly say when I tell her I have rid behind Jefferson ? She'll 
say I voted for the right man." 

The political principles of the Jeffersonian party now swept the 
country, and Mr. Jefferson swayed an influence which was never 
exceeded by Washington himself Louisiana, under which name 
was then included the whole territory Vest of the Mississippi to 
the ]*acific, was purchased of France, under his administration, in 
the year 1803, for fifteen millions of dollars. He was now smitten 
by another domestic grief In the year 1804, his beautiful daughter 
Maria, whom he so tenderly loved, sank into the grave, leaving 
her babe behind her. His eldest daughter, Martha, says, speaking 
of her father's suffering under this terrible grief, — 

" I found him with the Bible in his hands. He, who has been 
BO often and so harshly accused of unbelief, — he, in his hour of 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 135 

intense affliction, sought and found consolation in the sacred vol- 
ume. The comforter was there for his true heart and devout 
spirit, even though his faith might not be what the world calls 
orthodox." 

Mr. Jefferson writes, in response to a letter of condolence from 
a friend, " My loss is great indeed. Others may lose of their 
abundance; but I, of my want, have lost even the half of all I had. 
My evening prospects now hang on the slender thread of a singlo 
xifo. Perhaps I may be destined to see even this last chord of 
parental affection broken. The hope with which I had looked 
forward to the moment, when, resigning public cares to younger 
hands, I was to retire to that domestic comfort from which the 
last great step is to be taken, is fearfully blighted. 

" We have, however, the traveller's consolation. Every step 
shortens the distance we have to go. The end of our journey is 
in sight, — the bed whereon we are to rest and to rise in the midst 
of the friends we have lost. ' We sorrow not, then, as others who 
have no hope,' but look forward to the day which joins us to the 
great majority. But, whatever is to be our destiny, wisdom as 
well as duty dictates that we should acquiesce in the will of Him 
whose it is to give and take away, and be content in the enjoy- 
ment of those who are still permitted to be with us." 

Another presidential election came in 1804. Mr. Jefferson was 
re-elected President with wonderful unanimity; and George Clinton, 
Vice-President. Jefferson was sixty-two years of age, when, on 
the 4th of March, 1805, he entered upon his second term of office. 
Our relations with England were daily becoming more compli-. 
cated from the British demand of the right to stop any of our 
ships, whether belonging to either the commercial or naval marine, 
and to take from them any sailors whom they felt disposed to claim 
as British subjects. The United-States frigate " Chesapeake," of 
thirty-eight guns, was fired upon, on the 22d of June, 1807, by 
the British man-of-war " Leopard," of fifty-six guns ; and after a 
loss of three men killed and ten wounded, including Com. Bar- 
ron, the " Chesapeake," which was not in a condition to return a 
single shot, surrendered. Four men were then taken by the 
British officer from the frigate, three of whom were Americans. 
This outrage, which occurred but a few leagues out from Hamp- 
ton Roads, created intense excitement. The President despatched 
a vessel to England to demand reparation for the insult ; while, at 



136 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENT^. 

the same time, he issued a proclamation forbidding the waters of 
the United States to all British vessels of war unless in distress 
or bearing despatches. Capt. Douglass, who was at that time 
in command of a British squadron of three men-of-war at Norfolk, 
paid no attention to this proclamation, but wrote an insolent letter 
to the mayor, saying that the Americans could have peace or war, 
just as they desired. In a letter to Lafayette upon this subject, 
the President wrote, — 

" Never, since the battle of Lexington, have I seen this country 
in such a state of exasperation as at present ; and even that did 
not produce such unanimity. The Federalists themselves coalesce 
with us as to the object, although they will return to their old 
trade of condemning every step we take towards obtaining it." 

The course England pursued rendered it certain that war could 
not be avoided. Mr. JeflFerson humanely did every thing in his 
power to prevent the Indians from taking any part in it whatever. 
The British, on the contrary, were endeavoring to rouse them to 
deluge the frontiers in blood. England, who was engaged in 
the endeavor to crush Napoleon and re-instate the Bourbons, had 
resolved, at Avhatever hazard of war with America, to replenish 
her navy by seizing any British-born subjects, wherever she 
could find them in the marine of the United States. Any young 
lieutenant, protected by the guns of a British man-of-war, would 
step on board any of our ships, and, claiming whoever he pleased 
as British subjects, would impress them to fight against France. 
In this way, according to the official returns, more than twelve 
hundred Americans were dragged from our ships. Strange as it 
may now seem, the measures of government to redress these 
wrongs were virulently opposed. Notwithstanding the strength 
and influence of the opposition to Mr. Jefierson's administration, 
he was sustained by the general voice of the nation. 

Amidst all these cares, the President manifested the most afiec- 
tionate interest in the welfare of his family. On the 24"th of No 
vember, 1808, he wrote a letter to his grandson, who was absent 
from home at school, from which we make the following extract — 

" Your situation at such a distance from us cannot bur give us 
all great anxieties for you ; but thrown on a wide world, among 
entire strangers, without a friend or guardian to advise, so young 
too, and with so little experience of mankind, your dangers are 
great, and still your safety must rest on yourself. A determina- 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 137 

tion never to do what is wrong, prudence and good humor, will 
go far towards securing for you the estimation of the world. 

" When I recollect that at fourteen years of age the whole care 
and direction of myself was thrown on myself entirely, without a 
relation or friend qualified to advise or guide me, and recollect 
the various sorts of bad company with which I associated from 
time to time, I am astonished that I did not turn ofi" with some of 
them, and become as worthless to society as they were. I had the 
good fortune to become acquainted very early with some charac- 
ters of very high standing, and to feel the incessant wish that I 
could ever become what they were. Under temptations and 
difficulties, I would ask myself, ' What would Dr. Small, Mr. Wythe, 
Peyton Randolph, do in this situation? What course in it will 
insure me their approbation ? ' 

" From the circumstances of my position, I was often thrown 
into the society of horse-racers, card-players, fox-hunters, scien- 
tific and professional men, and of dignified men ; and many a time 
have I asked myself, in the enthusiastic moment of the death of a 
fox, the victory of a favorite horse, the issue of a question elo- 
quently argued at the bar or in the great council of the nation, 
' Well, which of these kinds of reputation should I prefer, — that of 
a horse-jockey, a fox-hunter, an orator, or the honest advocate of 
my country's rights?' Be assured, my dear Jefferson, that these 
little returns into ourselves, this self-catechising habit, ih not 
trifling nor useless, but leads to the prudent selection and steady 
pursuit of what is I'ight." 

In the year 1808, Mr. Jefierson closed his second term of office, 
ftnd James Madison succeeded him as President of the United 
States. In the following terms, the retiring President expresses 
to a friend his feelings upon surrendering the cares of office : — 

" Within a few days I retire to my family, my books, and farms ; 
and, having gained the harbor myself, I shall look on my friends, 
still buffeting the storm, with anxiety indeed, but not with envy. 
Never did a prisoner, released from his chains, feel such relief aa 
I shall on shaking off the shackles of power. Nature intended me 
for the tranquil pursuits of science by rendering them my supremo 
delight ; but the enormities of the times in which I have lived 
have forced me to take a part in resisting them, and to commit 
myself on the boisterous ocean of political passions. I thank God 
lor the opportunity of retiring from them without censure, and 

18 



138 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

carrying with rae the most consoling proofs of public approba 
tion." 

President Jefferson, after remaining in Washington to see hia 
successor and bosom friend inaugurated, left for Monticello. 
Between them, after Mr. Jefferson's retirement, a free and con- 
fidential correspondence was kept up respecting the measures of 
government. Their intellectual traits were very similar, while 
their tastes and political principles were quite the same. Jeffer- 
son's subsequent life at Monticello was very similar to that of 
Washington at Mount Vernon, A kinder master never lived. On 
no account would he allow his slaves to be overworked. His 
mornings he devoted to his numerous correspondence ; from 
breakfast to dinner, he was in the shops and over the farms ; from 
dinner to dark, he devoted to recreation and friends ; from dark to 
early bedtime, he read. He was particularly interested in young 
men, advising them as to their course of reading. Several came, 
and took up their residence in the neighboring town of Charlottes- 
ville, that they might avail themselves of his library, which was 
ever open for their use. 

From a series of untoward events, which we have not space 
here to record, Mr. Jefferson became deeply involved in debt, so 
that it was necessary for him to sell a large portion of his estate. 
Still, in the year 1809, he owned about ten thousand acres of land, 
a valuable mansion, richly furnished, with a large and costly library. 
His vast plantation, cut up into several farms, was well stocked. 
His slaves numbered two hundred. The value of the whole prop- 
erty was about two hundred thousand dollars. His debts wero 
then but about twenty thousand dollars. But it is to be remem- 
bered that this property was productive only so far as the land 
could be worked. Of the two hundred slaves, one hundred were 
either children too 3^oung, or the aged too infirm, to be of much 
service. Of the one hundred who remained, some were mechanics, 
and a large number were employed as house-servants. Mr. Jeffer- 
son was profuse in his hospitality. Whole families came in their 
coaches with their horses, — fathers and mothers, boys and girls, 
babies and nurses, — and remained three or even six months. One 
family of six persons came from Europe, and made a visit of ten 
months. After a short tour, they returned, and remained six 
months longer. Every day brought its contingent of guests. A 
gentleman who was often present says, — .^ 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 13S 

" People of wealth, fashion, men in office, professional men, mil- 
itary and civil, lawyers, doctors, Protestant clergymen, Catholic 
priests, members of Congress, foreign ministers, missionaries, In- 
dian agents, tomnsts, travellers, artists, strangers, friends, came, 
some from affection and respect, some from curiosity, some to give 
or receive advice or instruction, and some from idleness. Life at 
JMonticello, for years, resembled that at a fashionable watering- 
place. Mr. Jefferson always made his appearance at the breakfast- 
table : his guests were then left to amuse themselves as they 
pleased until dinner-time. They walked, talked, read, made ex- 
cursions with the ladies, or hunted in the woods: some sought 
the retirement of the splendid library; others, the social enjoyments 
of the drawing-room ; while others retired to the quiet of their own 
chambers, or to a solitary stroll down the mountain-side." 

Such hospitality would speedily consume a larger fortune than 
Mr. Jefferson possessed. He had a favorite servant, Wormley, 
who, with the utmost fidehty, watched over the interests of his 
master. Mr. Jefferson had three carriage-houses, each of which 
would hold a four-horse coach. These carriage-houses were for 
the accommodation of his friends, who came with their loaded 
coaches, drawn by four horses, to visit him. Some time after Mr. 
Jefferson's death, a gentleman at Monticello asked Wormley how 
often those carriage-houses were all filled in Mr. Jefferson's time, 
He replied, "Every night, sir, in summer; and we commonly had 
two or three carriages besides under that tree," pointing to a large 
tree in the vicinity. " It must have taken," the gentleman added, 
" all hands to have taken care of your visitors." — " Yes," the 
faithful old slave replied, " and the whole farm to feed them." 

Mr. Jefferson's daughter, Mrs. Randolph, was the presiding lady 
of this immense establishment. The domestic service req'iired 
thirty-seven house-servants. Mrs. Randolph, upon being asked 
what was the greatest number of guests she had ever entertained 
any one night, replied, " she believed fifty." 

In the winter, Mr. Jefferson had some little repose from tho 
crowd of visitors. He then enjoyed, in the highest possible 
degree, all that is endearing in domestic life. It is impossible to 
describe the love with which he was cherished by his grand- 
children. One of them writes, in a letter overflowing with the 
gushing of a loving heart, " My Bible came from him, my Shak- 
speare, nfy first writing-table, my first handsome writing-desk, my 



140 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

first Leghorn hat, my first silk dress: what, in short, of all my 
treasures did not come from him ? My sisters, according to their 
wants and tastes, were equally thought of, equally provided for. 
Our grandfather seemed to read our hearts, to see our individual 
wishes, to be our good genius, to wave the fairy wand to brighten 
our young lives by his goodness and his gifts." 

Another writes, " I cannot describe the feelings of veneration, 
admiration, and love, that existed in my heart towards him. I 
looked on him as a being too great and good for my comprehen- 
siuu ; and yet I felt no fear to approach him, and be taught by him 
some of the childish sports I delighted in. Not one of us, in our 
wildest moods, ever placed a foot on one of the garden-beds, for 
that would violate one of his rules ; and yet I never heard him 
utter a harsh word to one of us, or speak in a raised tone of voice, 
or use a threat." 

In 1812, a perfect reconciliation took place between Mr. Adams 
and Mr. Jefferson ; the latter very handsomely and magnanimously 
making the first advances. This friendship, which was kept up 
by a constant interchange of letters, continued unabated until 
their death, — on the same day, and almost at the same hour. 

After Mr. Jefferson had passed his threescore years and ten, 
he wrote to Mr. Adams in the following pIiilosopMc strain, which, 
as usual, leaves us in the dark in reference to his religious faith : — 

" You ask if I would live my seventy, or rather seventy-three, 
years over again. To which I say, ' Yea.' I think, with you, that 
it is a good world, on the whole ; that it has been framed on a 
principle of benevolence ; and that more pleasure than pain is dealt 
out to us. 

" There is a ripeness of time for death, regarding others as well 
as ourselves, when it is reasonable we should drop ofi", and make 
room for another growth. When we have lived our generation 
out, we should not wish to encroach on another. I enjoy good 
health ; I am happy in what is around me : yet I assure you I am 
ripe to leave all this day, this year, this hour." In a letter to Mr. 
Adams, dated January, 1817, we find the remark, "Perhaps, how- 
ever, one of the elements of future felicity is to be a constant and 
nnimpassioned view of what is passing here." In the same letter, 
he says, that, in reply to the question of one respecting his reli- 
gious faith, he answered, " Say nothing of my religion : it is known 
to my God and mi '■self alone." 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 14] 

Mr. Jefferson was ever ready to express his views frankly upon 
all subjects of science, philosophy, and politics. It is certainly 
remarkable that such a man was not willing to express his views 
upon a subject more important than all others, — the eternal well- 
being of man. Again : he writes to Mr. John Adams in a strain 
which throws interesting light upon his occupation at that tune, 
" Forty-three volumes read in one year, and twelve of them quarto. 
Dear sir, how I envy you ! Half a dozen of octavos in that space of 
time are as much as I am allowed. I can read by candle-light only 
and stealing long hours from my rest. From sunrise to one or tw( 
o'clock, and often from dinner to dark, I am drudging at the writ- 
ing-table : and all this to answer letters in which neither interest 
nor inclination on my part enters, and often from persons whose 
names I have never before heard ; yet, writing civilly, it is hard 
to refuse them civil answers." He had the curiosity to count the 
letters -eceived for one year, — a fair average ; and they amounted 
to one thousand two hundred and sixty-seven. At his death he 
had copies of sixteen thousand letters which he had written; 
and he had twenty-five thousand letters on file which he had 
received. 

In November, 1818, Mrs. John Adams died; and President Jef- 
ferson wrote the following beautiful letter of condolence to her 
husband : — 

" The public papers, my dear friend, announce the fatal event 
of which your letter of October the 20th had given me ominous 
foreboding. Tried myself in the school of affliction by the loss of 
every form of connection which can rive the human heart, I know 
well and feel what you have lost, what you have suffered, are 
suffering, and have yet to endure. The same trials have taught 
me, that, for ills so immeasurable, time and silence are the only 
medicine. I will not, therefore, by useless condolences, open 
afresh the sluices of your grief; nor, although mingling sincerely 
my tears with yours, will I say a word more, where words are 
vain, but that it is some comfort to us both that the term is not 
very distant at which we are to deposit in the same cerement our 
sorrows and suffering bodies, and to ascend in essence to an 
ecstatic meeting with the friends we have loved and lost, and 
whom we shall still love, and never lose again. God bless you, 
rind support you under your heavy affliction ! " 

In a letter dated March 21, 1819, he writes to Dr. Vine Utley, 



142 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" I never go to bed without an hour or half an hour s previous 
reading of something moral whereon to ruminate in the intervals 
of sleep." The book from which he oftenest read was a collection 
which he had made by cutting such passages from the evangelists 
as came directly from the lips of the Saviour, These he arranged 
in a blank-book. Jefferson writes to a friend, " A more beautiful 
or precious morsel of ethics I have never seen : it is a document 
in proof that /am a real Christian; that is to say, a disciple of 
the doctrines of Jesus." This book Mr. Jefferson prepared evi- 
dently with great care. It is a very full compend of the teachings 
of our Saviour. It was entitled " The Philosophy of Jesus of 
Nazareth." He also prepared a second volume, which he had 
bound in morocco, in a handsome octavo volume, and which he 
labelled on the back, '' Morals of Jesus." It is a little remarkable 
that Mr. Jefferson should have made these collections so secretly, 
that none of the members of his family knew even of the existence 
of the books until after his death. One would have supposed that 
he would have considered these teachings valuable for his children 
and his grandchildren as well as for himself. Indeed, we are 
informed that he conferred with some friends upon the expediency 
of printing them in several Indian dialects for the instruction of 
the Indians. 

He devoted much attention to the establishment of the uni- 
versity at Cliarlottesville. Having no religious faith which he 
was willing to avow, he was not willing that any religious faith 
whatever should be taught in the university as a part of itj 
course of instruction. This establishment, in a Christian land, of 
an institution for the education of youth, where the relation exist- 
ing between man and his Maker was entirely ignored, raised a 
general cry of disapproval throughout the whole country. It left 
a stigma upon the reputation of Mr. Jefferson, in the minds of 
Christian people, which can never be effaced. He endeavored to 
ibate the censure by suggesting that the various denominations 
of Christians might establish schools, if they wished, in the vicin- 
ity of the university ; and the students, if they wished, could 
attend their religious instructions. 

The year 1826 opened gloomily upon Mr. Jefferson. He was 
very infirm, and embarrassed by debts, from which he could see 
but little hope of extrication. The indorsement for a friend had 
placed upon him an additional twenty thousand dollars of debt 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 143 

To be old and poor is one of the greatest of earthly calamities. Ho 
applied to the Legislature for permission to dispose of a large por- 
tion of his property by lottery, hoping thus to realize a sum Buffi- 
cient to pay his debts, and to leave enough to give him a competence 
for his few remaining days. Though bitterly opposed to all 
gambling, he argued, in support of his petition, that lotteries were 
not immoral. The university at Charlottesville, which was 
regarded almost exclusively as Mr. Jefferson's institution^ had 
cost vastly more than had been anticipated. The members of the 
Legislature had become weary. of making grants; and, just as Mr. 
Jefferson sent in his petition for a lottery, they had, by a very deci- 
sive vote, refused an application for an additional grant of money 
for the university. Mortified and saddened, and anxious for the 
future, he wrote to a friend, that, if the Legislature would grant 
him the indulgence he solicited, — 

" I can save the house of Monticello and a farm adjoining to end 
my days in, and bury my bones ; if not, I must sell house and all 
here, and carry my family to Bedford, where I have not even a 
log hut to put my head into." 

At the same time, he wrote to his eldest grandson in a strain 
of dignity and of sorrow which no one can read but with sympa- 
thy. The letter was dated Feb. 8, 1826. "I duly received 
your affectionate letter of the 3d, and perceive there are greater 
doubts than I had apprehended whether the Legislature will 
indulge my request to them. It is a part of my mortification 
to perceive that I had so far overvalued myself as to have counted 
on it with too much confidence. I see, in the failure of this hope, 
a deadly blast of all my peace of mind during my remaining days. 
You kindly encourage me to keep up my spirits ; but, oppressed 
with disease, debility, age, and embarrassed affairs, this is difficult. 
For myself, I should not regard a prostration of fortune ; but I am 
overwhelmed at the prospect in which I leave my family. M}- 
dear and beloved daughter, the cherished companion of my early 
life, and nurse of my age, and her children, rendered as dear to me 
as if my own, from their having lived with me from their cradle, 
left in a comfortless situation, hold up to me nothing but future 
gloom ; and I should not care if life were to end with the line I 
am writing, were it not, that, in the unhappy state of mind which 
your father's misfortunes have brought upon him, I may yet bo 
of some avail to the farvtily." 



144 LIVES 01 T^E PRESIDENTS. 

To Mr. Jefferson's great gratification, the lottery bill passed. 
But, all over the country, friends, who appreciated the priceless 
value of the services which he had rendered our nation, began to 
send to him tokens of their love. The mayor of New York, Philip 
Hone, sent him, collected from a few friends, eight thousand five 
hundred dollars ; from Philadelphia, five thousand dollars were 
sent ; from Baltimore, three thousand dollars : and one or tM'o 
thousand more were sent from other sources. These testimoniaU'i, 
like sunshine breaking through the clouds, dispelled the gloom 
which had been so deeply gathering around his declining day. 
Very rapidly he was now sinking. His steps became so feeble, 
that with difficulty he could totter about the house. 

His very eloquent and truthful biographer, Henry S. Randall, 
says that the Bible was one of the principal books, which, with 
the Greek philosophers, occupied his last reading. " The majesty 
of ^schylus, the ripe art of Sophocles, the exhaustless invention 
of Euripides, now came back to him in more than their pristine 
grandeur and beauty ; and in the Bible he found flights of sub- 
limity more magnificent than in these, coupled with a philosophy 
to which the Grecian was imperfect, narrow, and base. No senti- 
ment did he express oftener than his contempt for all moral systems 
compared with that of Christ." 

There was something peculiarly gentle and touching in his 
whole demeanor. His good-night kiss, his loving embrace, his 
childlike simplicity and tenderness, often brought tears to the 
eyes of those whose privilege it was to minister to his wants. It 
was evident that he was conscious that the hour of his departure 
was at hand. He was exceedingly careful to avoid making any 
trouble, and was far more watchful for the comfort of those around 
him than for his own. His passage was very slow down into the 
vale of death. To one who expressed the opinion that he seemed 
a little better, he replied, — 

" Do not imagine for a moment that I feel the smallest solicitude 
about the result. I am like an old watch, with a pinion worn out 
here and a wheel there, until it can go no longer." 

He manifested no desire to depart, no cheerful hope of the 
future, and no dread. Looking up to the doctor, he said calmly, 
" A few hours more, and it will all be over." Hearing the name 
of the minister of the Episcopal Church which he attended, who 
had called, he said, " I have no objection to see him as a kind and 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 145 

good neighbor." Hi3 friends inferred from this that he did not 
wish to see him as a minister of Jesus Christ. Very truly and 
charitably he said, in reference to the anathemas which had been 
hurled upon him, that his enemies had never known him; that 
they had created an imaginary being, whom they had clothed with 
imaginary attributes, and to whom they bad given his name ; and 
that it wa«? this creature of their imagination whom they had so 
virulently assailed. 

On Monday evening, the 3d of July, he awoke about ten o'clock 
from troubled sleep, and, thinking it morning, remarked, " This is 
the 4th of July." Immediately ho sank away again into slum- 
ber. As the night passed slowly away, all saw that he was sinking 
in death. There was silence in the death-chamber. The myste- 
I'ious separation of the soul from the body was painlessly taking 
place. At ten minutes before one o'clock, at noon, of July 4, 1826, 
the last breath left the body. It was a day of darkness and rain 
when the remains were borne to their burial. The Rev, Mr. 
Hatch, the clergyman of the parish, whom Mr. Jefferson highly 
esteemed, read the burial service of the Episcopal Church. 

In conclusion, let me give an abstract of a sketch of his charac- 
ter, as given by his grandson, Thomas Jefferson Randolph, who 
was 4ie companion of his life, and who was thirty-four years of 
age when Mr. Jefferson died. He writes, — 

" My mother was his eldest, and, for the last twenty years of his 
life; his only child. She lived with him from her birth to his 
death. I was more intimate with him than with any man I have 
ever known. His character invited such intimacy. Soft and femi- 
nine in his aflections to his family, he entered into and sympathized 
with all their feelings, winning them to paths of virtue by the 
soothing gentleness of his manner. While he lived, and since, I 
have reviewed with severe scrutiny those interviews; and I must 
say, that I never heard from him the expression of oae thought, 
feeling, or sentiment, inconsistent with the highest moral standard, 
or the purest Christian charity in the largest sense. His moral 
character was of the highest order, founded upon the purest and 
sternest models of antiquity, softened, chastened, and developed 
by the influence of the all-pervading benevolence of the doctrines 
uf Christ, which he had intensely and admiringly studied. 

" In his contemplative moments, his mind turned to religion, 
which he studied thoroughly. He had seen and read much of the 

19 



146 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

abuses and perversions of Chistianity : he abhorred those abuses 
and their authors, and denounced them without reserve. He was 
regular in his attendance on church, taking his prayer-book with 
him. He drew the plan of the Episcopal Church at Charlottes- 
ville, was one of the largest contributors to its erection, and con- 
tributed regularly to the support of its minister. I paid, after his 
death, his subscription of two hundred dollars to the erection of 
(he Presbyterian church in the same village. A gentleman of 
some distinction calling upon him, and expressing his disbelief in 
the truths of the Bible, his reply was, * Then, sir, you have studied 
it to little purpose.' 

" He was guilty of no profanity himself, and did not tolerate it 
in others. He detested impiety; and his favorite quotation for his 
young friends, as the basis of their morals, was the fifteenth Psalm 
of David. He did not permit cards in his house : he knew no 
game with them. His family, by whom he was surrounded, and 
who saw him in all the unguarded privacy of private life, believed 
him to be the purest of men. The beauty of his character was 
exhibited in the bosom of his family, where he delighted to indulge 
in all the fervor and delicacy of feminine feeling. Before he lost 
his taste for the violin, in winter evenings he would play on it, 
having his grandchildren dancing around him. In summer, he 
would station them for their little races on the lawn, give the 
signal for the start, be the arbiter of the contest, and award the 
prizes. 

" In his person, he was neat in the extreme. In early life, his 
dress, equipage, and appointments were fastidiously appropriate 
to his rank. When at Paris, Philadelphia, and Washington, his 
furniture, table, servants, equipage, and the tout ensemble of his 
establishment, were deemed highly appropriate to the position he 
held. He was a gentleman everywhere. His habits were regu- 
lar and systematic. He rose always at dawn. He said in his last 
illness that the sun had not caught him in bed for fifty years. He 
never drank ardent spirits or strong wines. Such was his aver- 
sion to ardent spirits, that when, in his last illness, his physician 
wished him to use brandy as an astringent, he could not induce 
him to take it strong enough." 

After Mr. Jefierson's death, the lottery plan was abandoned. 
The lands were sold; and after the disposal of the whole property, 
the proceeds not being suflScient to pay the debts, the executor 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 147 

met the balance from his own purse. As soon as it was known 
that his only child was thus left without any independent provis- 
ion, the legislatures of South Carolina and Louisiana generously 
voted her ten thousand dollars each. 

As time dispels the mists of prejudice, the fame of Thomas 
Jefferson will shine with ever-increasing lustre ; and he must, in 
all the future, occupy one of the most conspicuous niches in the 
temple of American worthies. 



CHAPTER IV. 

JAMES MADISON. 

CJhildhood. — College-life. — Stadious Habits. — Enters Publii Life. — MenLai Charaotei 
istics. — Aid in framing the Constitution. — In Congress. — Marriage. — Mrs. Madison. — 
Alien and Sedition Laws. — Secretary of State. --The White House. — Life in Washing- 
ton. Friendship with Jefferson. — Abrogation of Titles. -- Anecdote. — Ghc^en Presi- 
dent. — Kight of Search. — War with England. — Re-elected. — Treaty of Client. — 
Arrival of the Naws. — Keiirec. ent to Montpelier. — Old Age, and Death. 

The name of James Madison is inseparably connected with most 
of the important events in thrt heroic period of our country dur- 




i:^?\ r'C^. 









llsli!^- 





MONTPELIER, RESIDEXCK OF JAMES MADISON. 

ing which the foundations of this great republic were laid. The 
Madison Family were among the earliest emigrants to this New 
World, landing upon the shores of the Chesapeake but fifteen years 
after the settlement at Jamestown. 

148 



JAMES MADISON. 14& 

The father of James Madison was an opulent planter, residing 
upon a very fine estate called " Montpelier," in Orange County, 
V'a. The mansion was situated in the midst of scenery highly 
picturesque and romantic, on the west side of South-west Mountain, 
at the foot of the Blue Eidge. It was but twenty-five miles from 
the home of Jefi"erson at Monticello. The closest personal and 
political attachment existed between these illustrious men, from 
their early youth until death. 

James Madison was born on the 5th of March, 1751. He was 
blessed with excellent parents ; both father and mother being per- 
sons of intelligence and of great moral worth. The best society of 
Virginia often visited at their hospitable mansion ; and thus, from 
early life, Mr. Madison was accustomed to those refinements which 
subsequently lent such a charm to his character. His sobriety, 
and dignity of demeanor, were such, that it has been said of him 
that " he never was a boy." ' 

James was the eldest of a family of seven children, — four sons 
and three daughters, — all of whom attained maturity, and passed 
through life esteemed and beloved. His early education was con- 
ducted mostly at home, under a private tutor. He was naturally 
intellectual in his tastes, and, with but little fondness for rough, out- 
of-door sports, consecrated himself with unusual vigor to study. 
Even when a boy, he had made very considerable proficiency in 
the Greek, Latin, French, and Spanish languages. In the year 
1769, at the age of eighteen, he was sent to Princeton College in 
New Jersey, of which the illustrious Dr. Witherspoon was then 
president. Here he applied himself to study with the most impru- 
dent zeal ; allowing himself, for mouths, but three hours' sleep out 
of the twenty-four. His health thus became so seriously impaired, 
that he never recovered any vigor of constitution. He graduated in 
1771, at the age of twenty, with a feeble body, with a character of 
the utmost purity, and with a mind highly disciplined, and richly 
etored with all the learning which embellished, and gave efficiency 
lo, his subsequent career. 

Beturning to Virginia, he commenced the study of law, and a 
ci.urse of extensive and systematic reading. This educational 
course, the spirit of the times in which he lived, and the society 
with which he associated, all combined to inspire him with a 
strong love of liberty, and to train him for his life-work of a states- 
man. Being naturally of a religious turn of mind, and his frail 



150 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

health leading him to think that his life was not to be long, he 
directed especial attention to theological studies. Endowed with 
a mind singularly free from passion and prejudice, and with almost 
unequalled powers of reasoning, he weighed all the arguments for 
and against revealed religion, until his faith became so established 
as never to be shaken. 

The Church of England was then the established church in Vir- 
ginia, invested with all the prerogatives and immunities which it 
enjoyed in the father-land. All were alike taxed to support its 
clergy. There was no religious liberty. Mr. Madison first appears 
before the public, associated with Mr. Jefferson, as the opponent 
of this intolerance. The battle was a fierce one. The foes of in- 
tolerance were denounced as the enemies of Christianity; but 
liberty triumphed, and religious freedom was established in Vir- 
ginia. 

In the spring of 1776, when twenty-six years of age, he was 
elected member of the Virginia Convention, to frame the Constitu- 
i;ion of the State. Being one of the youngest members of the house, 
naturally diffident, and having no ambitious aspirings to push him 
forward, he took but little part in the public debates. Like Jef- 
ferson, his main strength lay in his conversational influence and in 
his pen. Real ability and worth cannot long be concealed. Every 
day, almost unconsciously to himself, he was gaining influence and 
position. The next year (1777), he was a candidate for the General 
Assembly. He refused to treat the whiskey-loving voters, and con- 
sequently lost his election ; but those who had witnessed the 
talents, energy, and public spirit of the modest young man, en- 
listed themselves in his behalf, and he was appointed a member 
of the Executive Council. 

Both Patrick Henry and Thomas Jefferson were governors of 
Virginia while Mr. Madison remained member of the council; and 
their appreciation of his intellectual, social, and moral worth, con- 
tributed not a little to his subsequent eminence. In the year 
] 780, he was elected a member of the Continental Congress. Here 
he met the most illustrious men in our land, and he was imme- 
diately assigned to one of the most conspicuous positions among 
them. Mr. Jefferson says of him, in allusion to the study and 
experience through which he had already passed, — 

" Trained in these successive schools, he acquired a habit of 
self-possession which placed at ready command the rich resources 



JAMES MADISON". 151 

of his luminous and discriminating mind and of his extensive in- 
(ormation, and rendered him the first of every assembly afterwards 
of which he became a member. Never wandering from Ins sub- 
ject into vain declamation, but pursuing it closely in language 
pure, classical, and copious ; soothing always the feelings of his ad- 
versaries by civilitievi, and softness of expression, — he rose to Ihe 
eminent station which he held in the great National Convention of 
1787 ; and in that of Virginia, which followed, he sustained the 
now Constitution in all its parts, bearing off the palm against the 
logic of George Mason and the fervid declamation of Patrick 
Henry. With these consummate powers were united a pure and 
i?potless virtue, which no calumny has ever attempted to sully. 
Of the power and polish of his pen, and of the wisdom of hia 
administration in the highest office of the nation, I need say noth 
ing. They have spoken, and will forever speak, for themselves." 

Every American citizen must reflect with pride upon the fact 
that he can point to a series of rulers over these United States 
such as no other nation on earth can boast of. Let any intelligent 
reader glance at the catalogue of kings of England, France, Spain, 
— rulers who have attained the supreme power by hereditary 
descent, — and compare them with the presidents which the elective 
franchise has given to this country, and even prejudice the most 
unbending will be compelled to admit that popular choice is far 
more' unerring in the selection of rulers than the chances of birth. 
Every monarchy in Europe has had upon the throne men as 
worthless as earth has ever seen. America has not had a single 
president who has not been a man of moral and social excellence, 
who was not in heart a true patriot, and who did not honestly, 
(.hough perhaps at times with mistaken policy, seek the promotion 
of the best interests of his country. 

For three years Mr. Madison continued in Congress, one of its 
most active and influential members. In the year 1784, his term 
having expired, he was elected a member of the Virginia Legisla- 
ture. Here he was the earnest supporter of every wise and liberal 
measure. He advocated the revision of the old statutes, the abro- 
gation of entail and primogeniture, and the establishment of per- 
fect religious freedom. His " Memorial and Remonstrance " 
against a general assessment for the support of religion is con- 
sidered one of the ablest papers which emanated from his pen. It 
settled the question of the entire separation of church and state 
in Virginia. 



152 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 

He still continued, in the midst of all these responsibilities, t(S 
prosecute with much energy his legal and literary studies. It 
was never his wish to enter upon the practice of the law •, and, in 
a letter to Mr. Randolph in 1785, he says, "Another of my wishes 
is, to depend as little as possible on the labor of slaves." The fol- 
lowing extract from a letter of Mr. Jefferson, from Annapolis, to 
Mr. Madison, under date of Feb. 20, 1764, gives a pleasing pio 
tureofthe friendship then and ever existing between Jefferson, 
Madison, and Monroe: — 

" I hope you have found access to my library. I beg you to 
make free use of it. The steward is living there now, and, of 
course, will always be in the way. Monroe is buying land almost 
adjoining me: Short will do the same. What would I not give 
could you fall into the circle ! With such a society, I could once 
more venture home, and lay myself up for the residue of life, quit- 
ting all its contentions, which grow daily more and more insup- 
portable. 

" Think of it. To render it practicable, only requires you to think 
it so. Life is of no value but as it brings us gratifications. Among 
the most valuable of these is rational society. It informs the mind, 
sweetens the temper, cheers our spirits, and restores health. 
There is a little farm of one hundred and forty acres adjoining me, 
and within two miles, all of good land, though old, with a small, 
indifferent house upon it ; the whole worth not more than two 
hundred and fifty pounds. Such a one might be a farm of 
experiment, and support a little table and household. Once more, 
think of it, and adieu." 

There was a vein of pleasantry pervading the character of Mr. 
Madison, which ever rendered him to his friends one of the most 
agreeable of companions. No man felt more deeply than J^Ir. 
Madison the utter inefficiency of the old confederacy, with no na- 
tional government, with no power to form treaties which would be 
liinding or to enforce law. There was not any State more promi- 
nent than Virginia in the declaration, that an efficient national 
government must be formed. In January, 1786, Mr. Madison car- 
ried a resolution through the General Assembly of A^irginia, invit- 
ing the other States to appoint commissioners to meet in conven- 
tion at Annapolis to discuss this subject. Five States only were 
represented. The convention, however, issued another call, drawn 
«p by Mr, Madison, urging all the States to send their delegates to 



JAMES MADISON. 153 

Philadelphia, in May, 1787, to draught a Constitution for the United 
States, to take the place of that Confederate League which the 
sagacity of John Adams had foretold must prove a failure. 

The delegates met at the time appointed. Every State but 
Rhode Island was represented. George Washington was chosen 
president of the convention ; and the present Constitution of the 
United States was then and there formed. 

When Charles X. was driven from France, and Louis Philippe 
was invited to take the throne, Lafayette took his hand, as they 
stood upon a balcony of the HOtel de Ville in Paris, while swarm- 
ing thousands were gathered around, and said, — 

" You know that I am a republican, and that I regard the Con- 
stitution of the United States as the most perfect that has ever 
existed." 

" I think as you do," replied Louis Philippe. " It is impossible 
to pass two years in the United States, as I have done, and not be 
of that opinion. But do you think, that, in the present state of 
France, a republican government can be sustained here ? " 

" No," said Lafayette : " that which is necessary for France is a 
throne, surrounded by republican institutions : all must bo repub- 
lican." 

When we consider the speakers and the occasion, we must re- 
gard this as the highest compliment ever paid to the Constitution 
of the United States ; and our nation owes a debt of gratitude, 
which can never be paid, not only to the founders of this Constitu- 
tion, but also to those heroic soldiers of our land, who on the field 
of battle, and with their blood, have defended ii; when treason 
would have trampled it in the dust. 

There was, perhaps, no mind and no pen more active in framing 
this immortal document than the mind and the pen of James Mad- 
ison. Mr. JejEferson pays the following beautiful tribute to his 
character and ability : — 

^' I have known him from 1779, when he first came into the pub- 
lic councils; and, after three and thirty years' trial, I can say con- 
scientiously, that I do not know in the world a man of purer in- 
tegrity, more dispassionate, disinterested, and devoted to genuine ^ 
republicanism ; nor could I, in the whole scope of America and 
Europe, point out an abler head." 

There were two parties to be reconciled in forming the Consti- 
tution. The Federal party were in favor of making the Central 



154 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

government strong, investing it with such powers thf.t we shonM 
be a compact and united nation ; while they still wouh; give the 
State governments full authority in all local matters. The Repub 
lican party would make the State governments strong, reserving for 
them all rights excepting those which it was absolutely necessary 
to surrender to the central power at Washington. The Constitu- 
tion, as formed, was a very harmonious blending of these two ap- 
parently antagonistic principles. Neither party was fully satis, 
ficd with the results. The Federalists would have given the Cen- 
tral government more power: the Republicans would have given 
the State governments more power. And, from that time to this, 
that point has been prominent in the conflict of parties. 

Washington and John Adams strongly inclined to the Federal 
side; Jefferson, to the Republican side. "Mr. Madison," writes 
George Washington, " thinks an individual independence of the 
States utterly irreconcilable with their aggregate sovereignty, 
and that a consolidation of the whole into one simple republic 
would be as inexpedient as it is unattainable. He therefore pro- 
poses a middle ground, which may at once support a due suprem- 
acy of the national authority, and not exclude the local authori- 
ties whenever they can be subordinately useful." 

During the discussion of these great questions, the views of the 
Federal party were urged in a series of letters, which then attained 
the celebrity which they have ever since held. These letters 
were signed The Federalist. Gen. Hamilton was the principal 
writer, though several papers were famished by Mr. Madison and 
Mr. Jay. 

Some were in favor of electing the president and the members 
of the Senate for life, or during good behavior, as with our judges. 
Others wished that the president might be re-elected every four 
years, like a Polish king ; and that he might thus, should the peo- 
ple choose, by continual re-elections, become a life-long ruler. 
Others urged that he should serve but one term, and be fcr*^ver 
after ineligible. It has became a matter of custom only, that ni- 
president shall continue in office more than two terras. In the 
convention, Mr. Madison and Gen. Washington almost invariably 
coincided in opinion. At length the Constitution was formed, and 
was adopted by a vote of eighty-nine to seventy-nine. It was then 
to be presented to the several States for acceptance. Very great 
solicitude was felt. Should it be rejected, we should be left but i 



JAMES MADISON. lf^f> 

conglomeration of independentStates,with but little power at home, 
and little respect abroad. Mr. Madison was selected by the conven- 
tion to draw up an address to the people of the United States, ex- 
pounding the principles of the Constitution, and urging its adoption. 

In ever}^ State, there was a battle between the friends and the 
foes of the new Constitution; but at length it triumphed over all 
opposition, and went into effect in 1789. In Virginia, it encoun- 
tered very formidable hostility ; but Mr. Madison's brilliant states- 
manship and persuasive powers secured its unconditional ratifica- 
tion, notwithstanding it was opposed by the brilliant rhetoric of 
Patrick Henry and the stern logic of George Mason. He was 
soon after elected a member of the House of Representatives in the 
First Congress, which then met in the old City Hall in New York, 
at the corner of Wall and Nassau Streets. Here he found himself 
drifting to the side of the Republican party in nearly all it? 
measures ; and yet so courteous was he in his manners, so con- 
ciliatory in tone, and so undeniably conscientious in his convic- 
tions, that he retained the affection and confidence of his former 
friends. 

Upon Mr. Jefferson's return from France, President Washington 
earnestly solicited Mr. Madison to accept that mission ; but he 
firmly declined the appointment, and also the office of Secretary of 
State, which was urged upon him. He had gradually become so 
identified with the Republican party in his principles, that he felt 
that he could not harmoniously co-operate with the majority of 
Washington's cabinet. In 1792, Mr. Madison was the avowed 
leader of the Republican party in Congress. He sympathized with 
Mr. Jefferson in his foreign policy, gratefully cherishing the re- 
membrance of French intervention in our behalf, and advocating 
with all his powers of voice and pen a retaliatory policy towards 
the conduct of Great Britain. 

When President Washington was about to retire from his second 
terra of office in 1797, it was the wish of many that Mr. Madison 
sliould be the candidate of the Republican party. Mr. Jefferson 
wrote, — 

*' There is not another person in the United States, with whom, 
being placed at the helm of our affairs, my mind would be so com* 
pletely at rest for the fortune of our political bark." 

But Mr. Madison would not consent. His terra in Congress had 
now expired, and he returned from New York to his beautiful 



156 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

retreat at Montpelier. While in Congress, he had met, in the gay 
eociet}'' of New York, a young widow of remarkable powers of 
fascination, — Mrs. Todd. Her maiden name was Dolly Paine. 
She was born in North Carolina, of Quaker parents, and had been 
educated in the strictest rules of that sect. When but eighteen 
years of age, she married a young lawyer, and moved to Philadel- 
phia, where she was introduced to brilliant scenes of fashionable 
life. She speedily laid aside the dress and the address of the 
Quakeress, and became one of the most fascinating ladies who ha^ 
embellished our republican court. In New York, after the death 
of her husband, she was the belle of the season, and was sur- 
rounded with admirers. Mr. Madison won the prize. They were 
married in 1794. He was then forty-three years of age. 

He had previously met with a serious disappointment in hia 
affections. Some years before, in Philadelphia, he had become 
ardently attached to Miss Floyd, of New York, the accomplished 
daughter of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. 
For some unexplained reason, the attachment, which seemed to be 
mutual, was broken off, to the great grief of Mr. Madison. 

The companion whom Mr. Madison had secured at this late 
hour of life proved invaluable. She was, in person and character, 
queenly. As graceful as Josephine, with a heart overflowing with 
kindness, endowed with wonderful powers of conversation, per- 
suasion, and entertainment, and with a face whose frankness and 
winning smiles at sight won all hearts, she contributed greatly to 
the popularity and power of her husband in the elevated sphere 
through which he afterwards moved. 

As, in the case of Napoleon, all who wished for special favors 
felt safe if they could secure the advocacy of Josephine; so it 
was found, that, through Mrs. Madison, one could ever obtain the 
readiest access to the heart of her distinguished husband. She 
was a true and sympathizing friend of all who were in sorrow. 
Mr. Catiin, the renowned delineator of Indian life, when a young 
man, just after his marriage, was in Virginia, in the vicinity of 
Mr. Madison's home, endeavoring to earn a living by painting 
portraits. He was poor, a stranger, in a cheerless inn, and his 
young wife was taken sick with the intermittent fever. Their 
situation was desolate indeed. But soon a lady of wonderfully 
prepossessing appearance and manners entered the chambei, 
apologized gracefully for the intrusion, introduced herself as Mrs. 



JAMES MADISON. 157 

Madison, and, taking off bonnet and shawl, sat down by the bed- 
side of the sick one, cheered her with words of hope, administered 
the medicines, and from that hour, with a sister's tenderness, 
watched over her, and supplied her with comforts and luxuries, 
until she was quite recovered. 

In Washington, she was the life of society. A group of tlio 
young were ever gathered around her. If there were any dilii« 
dent, timid young girl just making her appearance, she was sure 
to find in Mrs. Madison a supporting and encouraging friend. 
Probably no lady has thus far occupied so prominent a position i.i 
the very peculiar society which has constituted our republicaa 
court as Mrs. Madison. 

At Montpelier, in this brief season of retirement from the cares 
of ofSce, Mr. Madison was in the enjoyment of almost every bless- 
ing earth can confer. His opulence enabled him to indulge in 
unbounded hospitality, and his celebrity drew to his mansion dis- 
tinguished guests from all lands. Mr. Madison, though a vein of 
pleasantry was intertwined with his nature, was naturally reserved 
and formal. Mrs. Madison was the charm and the life of every 
social circle in which she appeared. The happy and harmonious 
household was truly blessed by the presence of the widowed mothers 
of both Mr. and Mi-s. Madison, and two orphan sisters of Mrs. Mad- 
ison. Prosperity, love, distinction, all lent their charms to gili 
the scenes of this favored Virginian home. 

At the time when Mr. Madison retired from Congress, the con- 
dition of our country was very critical. The Jacobinical Direc- 
tory in France, which Napoleon afterwards overthrew, was last 
sundering the ties of gratitude which bound us to that nation; 
and England, proud mistress of the seas, despising our infant 
navy, was treating us with indignities which America would not 
now submit to for a single hour. The Federalists had far more 
dread of France than of England, and were inclined to combino 
with England to arrest the progress of the French Revolutinn. 
They called the Republicans Jacobins. Party spirit ran so high, 
that, in many parts of the country, all social intercourse between 
Federalists and Republicans was broken up : even the children of 
the opposing parties were not allowed freely to associate with 
each other. The wildest tales were circulated through the coun- 
try, that the French Jacobins were coming over to co-operate with 
the Republicans, and overthrow our government. It is scarcely 



158 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

possible for the people of the present day to realize the /renzy of 
that delirium. 

Under its influence, in the early days of Mr. John Adams's ad- 
Diinistration, two acts were passed, called "Alien and Sedition 
Laws." By these laws, the President was authorized, in case of 
war, made or threatened, to imprison, banish, or place under bonds, 
at his discretion, any natives or subjects of the hostile power not 
actually naturalized ; and also it was decreed, that any one, who 
should unlawfully conspire to oppose any measure of the United- 
States Government, should be punished, on legal conviction, by 
line not exceeding five thousand dollars, or by imprisonment not 
exceeding five years. 

It was generally understood that these acts were aimed at the 
Republican party, who were in sympathy with that equality of rights 
which the French Revolution was struggling to introduce, and who 
were opposing bitterly, and sometimes with measures of doubtful 
legality, the administration of our government. These laws were 
vehemently denounced. They contributed greatly to John Adams's 
unpopularity. To add to the excitement, a bill was introduced 
into the Senate of the United States by Mr. Lloyd of Maryland, 
which passed to a second reading by a vote of fourteen to eight, 
declaring the people of France to be enemies of the United States, 
and adherence to them, or giving them aid and comfort, punishable 
with death. 

Mr. Jefierson was so roused by these measures, that he drew 
up some resolutions, the authorship of which was for many years 
kept secret, but which were adopted by the Legislature of Ken- 
tucky, so determined in their character, that his enemies have 
charged him with advocating nullification and violent resistance. 
Mr. Madison, though repudiating every thing like nullification, 
drew up resolutions, which were carried by a large majority 
through* the Virginia Legislature, denouncing the acts with great 
severity. The legislatures of other States, however, warmV 
supported the acts as both constitutional and needful. Mr. Mad- 
ison's writings upon this subject are by all admitted to exhibit 
masterly vigor; and, in their advocacy of a " strict construction " 
of the Constitution, they became the text-book of his party. 

But the storm passed away. The Alien and Sedition Laws were 
repealed. John Adams lost his re-election. Thomas Jefierson 
was chosen President in 1801, and the Republicans came into 



JAMES MADISON. 159 

power. The new President immediately appointed his friend, 
Mr. Madison, Secretary of State. With great ability he discharged 
the duties of this onerous and responsible office during the whole 
eight years of Mr. Jefferson's administration. This summonovl him 
from his happy home in Virginia to Washington. 

As Mr. Jefferson was a widower, and neither of his daughters 
could be often with him, Mrs. Madison usually presided over the 
festivities of the White House ; and as her husband succeeded 
Mr. Jefferson, holding his office for two terms, this very remark 
able woman was, in reality, the mistress of the presidential mansion 
for sixteen years. The White House, our republican palace, was 
then a very shabby affair. The building, but half completed, 
stood ir a pasture of old oaks, surrounded by rough masses of 
stone and piles of lumber, and other accumulations of unsightly 
materials. It was, indeed, solitary apd alone, looking far more 
like an abandoned ruin than a rising palace. 

Far away in the distance stood the Capitol Hill, surrounded by 
groves, forests, and wide-spreading plains, with a few houses or 
huts scattered here and there at most unsocial distances. The 
crowd which flocked to Washington from our widely extended 
and rapidly increasing country came with all their provincial 
peculiarities. It was a motley throng. But wonderful harmony 
pervaded Mr. Jefferson's cabinet. X We were," he writes, " one 
family." The stately forms of etiquette which were congenial 
to the tastes of Presidents Washington and Adams were now laid 
aside, and the simplicity of private life reigned in the presidential 
mansion. 

Mr. Madison being entirely engrossed by the cares of his office, 
all the duties of social life devolved upon his accomplished wife. 
Never were such responsibilities more ably and delightfully dis- 
charged. Every visitor left her with the impression of having 
been the object of peculiar attention as an especial favorite. She 
never forgot a face or a name. The most bitter foes of her hus- 
band and of the administration were received with the frankly 
proffered hand and the cordial smile of welcome. Thib was not 
policy merely: it was the resistless outfloAving of her own loving 
nature. Her house was plainly furnished ; her dress, though ele- 
gant, simple ; and the influenced this gentle woman, in allaying 
the bitterness of party rancor, became a great and salutary power 
in the nation. 



160 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Mr. Madison's correspondence, while Secretary of State, wltu 
foreign ambassadors and our ministers at foreign courts, constitute 
a very important part of the history of President Jefferson's ad- 
ministration. There is not any nation which can exhibit a more able 
series of state-papers tlian came from his pen. 

It is the genius of our country to reject pompous titles : we 
Lave laid them aside with the powdered wigs and scarlet coats of 
other days. But no other land can exhibit a more brilliant cata 
logue of truly great men, — of Nature's noblemen. Washington 
Adams, Jefterson, Madison, and a host of others in the galaxy of 
American worthies, have a fame more durable than sculptured 
marble, or molten brass, or monumental granite. Theirs is a no- 
bility not of hereditary descent, and mouldy parchments, and un- 
earned laurels, but a nobility of heroic achievement, which shall 
be recognized through all the ages, and, like the untitled stars, 
shall shine forever. 

As the term of Mr. Jefferson's presidency drew near its close, 
party rancor was roused to the utmost in the strife to elect his 
successor. It was like a death-grapple between the two great 
parties, the Federal and the Republican. Mr, Madison was not an 
emotional man. He stood, like the peak of Teneriffe in a storm 
undisturbed by the howl of the gale and the dash of the wave. 
Strong in honesty which he knew to be unimpeachable, he con- 
templated, in imperturbable serenity, assaults of the press which 
would have driven many men frantic. Mrs. Madison, in accordance 
with her husband's wishes^ continued to exercise the rites of hos- 
pitality without regard to party politics. The chiefs of the differ- 
ent parties met in her parlor, and all alike shared in the smiles 
and kindly greetings which made that parlor so attractive. 

The uninteHigent are easily deceived by tinsel. Even in ouf 
land, where education was so generally diffused, the barbers of 
Washington judged of the merits of great men by the length of 
their cues and the amount of powder on their hair. The morning 
after Mr. Madison was nominated for President, a barber in Wash- 
ijDgton, addressing a senator whom he was shaving, said, — 

" Surely this country is doomed to disgrace and ruin. What 
Presidents we might have, sir! Just look at Daggett of Connecti- 
cut, and Stockton of New Jersey ! What cues they have got, 
sir ! as big as your wrist, and powdered every day, like real gentle- 
men as they are. Such men would confor dignity on the station. 



JAMES MADISON. 161 

But this little Jim Madison, with a cue no bigger than a pipe* 
stem, sir, — it is enough to make a man forswear his counti^ ! " 

Out of one hundred and seventy-five electoral votes, Mr. Madi- 
son received one hundred and twenty-two, and with this handsome 
majority took his seat as President on the 4th of March, 1809. The 
encroachments of England had brought us to the verge of war. 
British orders in council destroyed our commerce, and our flag 
was exposed to constant insult. The British minister, Mr. Er- 
skine, who was disposed to be conciliatory, was recalled, and a 
Mr. Jackson, a man of insolent address, was sent to occupy hia 
place. He became so unbearable, that the Secretary of State was 
directed to hold no further communication with him, and the Brit- 
ish GovcDiment was requested to withdraw him. This was done ; 
but no one was seut in his place. Congress, in its extreme dis- 
pleasure, passed a resolution declaring the official communications 
of Mr. Jackson as having been highly indecorous and insolent, 
approving the conduct of the Executive in requesting his recall, 
and passing an act of non-intercourse with both England and 
France, — with the latter power in consequence of the Berlin and 
Milan decrees. Napoleon immediately revoked those decrees, send- 
ing word to our Government that they had not been issued out of 
any unfriendly feeling to us, but as a necessary measure of retal- 
iation against the atrocious orders in council which England had 
issued. 

The act of non-intercourse now remained in full force against 
England alone. Mr. Madison was a man of peace. Scholarly in 
his tastes, retiring in his disposition, war had no charms for him. 
But the meekest spirit can be roused. It makes one's blood boil, 
even now, to think of an American ship brought to, upon the ocean, 
by the guns of an English cruiser. A young lieutenant steps on 
board, and orders the crew to be paraded before him. With great 
nonchalance, he selects any number whom he may please to desig- 
nate as British subjects ; orders them down the ship's side into 
his boat ; and places them on the gun-deck of his man-of-war, to 
fight, by compulsion, the battles of England. This right of search 
and impressment no efforts of our Government could induce the 
British cabinet to relinquish. 

There was a popular meeting held in the city of New York ou 
the 26th of April, 1806 ; when the resolution was unanimously 
passed, '' That the suffering foreign armed ships to station them- 

21 



162 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



selves ofif our harbor, and there to stop, search, and capture oui 
vessels, to impress, wound, and murder our citizens, is a grosi and 
criminal neglect of the highest duties of government ; and that an 
administration which patiently permits the same is not entitled to 
the confidence of a brave and free people." 




BRITISH j;i(;ht ok search. 



Where resistance vvas attempted, the impressment was con. 
ducted with unsparing severity. The cudgel and the cutlass were 
freely used. Those who refused to submit were scourged, placed 
in irons, and scourged again on the raw wounds until they suc- 
cumbed. It was proved by official records that more than a th(ni 
sand American citizens were thus torn from home and friends^ 
many of whom were compelled for years to man British guns, and 
were thus forced, when the war between the United States and 
England was opened, to fight against their own flag. No govern- 
ment could be worthy of respect which would not at least attempt 
to protect its citizens from such outrages. 

The following case illustrates that of hundreds. Hiram Thayer 
was born in Greenwich, Conn He was a young man of sobriety, 



JAMES MADISON. 163 

industry, high moral worth, and was greatly endeared to his 
friends. He was impressed in 1803, with barbarity which would 
have disgraced an Algerine courser. For five years, in the war 
which England was then waging against France, he was compelled 
to serve the British cannon. In 1805, he was transferred on board 
the British frigate " Statira." In reply to his remonstrances, he was 
told, that, if he were not submissive and obedient, " he should be 
tied to the mast, and shot at like a dog." He contrived to get a 
letter to his father. His friends exerted themselves to the utmost 
to obtain his release. Gen. Lyman, the American consul at Lon- 
don, applied to the Lords Commissioners in vain for his discharge. 
Certificates of his nativity were exhibited from the selectmen, 
town-clerk, and parish minister of his native town. 

Still he was held in British slavery all through our second war 
with England, compelled to fight against his own countrymen. On 
the 14th of March, 1814, Commodore Decatur sent the father, under 
a flag of truce, on board " The Statira," which was then one of the 
British blockading squadron off New London. Commodore Deca- 
tur sent with the flag a note to Capt. Capel of " The Statira," saying 
" that he felt persuaded that the application of the father, furnished 
as he was with conclusive evidence of the nativity and identity of 
his son, would induce an immediate order for his discbarge." The 
interview between the father and the son, after eleven years of 
separation, was most afi'ecting. There was not a doubt, in the 
mind of a single British officer, of Hiram Thayer's being an Amer- 
ican citizen ; but they refused to release him, alleging simply 
that they had no authority to do so. The unhappy man was stiU 
detained in this slavery, as atrocious as ever disgraced a Cuban 
plantation. Not long after this, he fell overboard, and was drowned. 
A trunk containing portions of his clothing were the only memo- 
rials of their loved son which were ever returned to his afflicted 
parents. 

On the 18th of June, 1812, President Madison gave his approval 
to an act of Congress declaring war against Great Britain. Not- 
withstanding the bitter hostility of the Federal party to the war, 
the country in general approved ; and Mr. Madison, on the 4th of 
March, 1813, was re-elected by a largo majority, and entered upon 
his second term of office. This is not the place to describe the 
various adventures of this war on the land and on the water. Our 
infant navy then laid the foundations of its renown in grappling 



l64 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

witli the most formidable- power which ever swept the seas. Tbn» 
contest commenced in earnest by the appearance of a Britisli fleet, 
early in February, 1813, in Chesapeake Bay, declaring nearly the 
whole coast of the United States under blockade. 

The Emperor of Russia offered his services as mediator. Amer- 
ica accepted ; England refused. A British force of five thousand 
men landed on the banks of the Patuxent River, near its entrance 
into Chesapeake Bay, and marched rapidly, by way of Bladens- 
burg, upon Washington. There was no sufficient force in the 
vicinity to resist them. Gen. Winder was in command of a few 
regular troops and some regiments of militia. 

The straggling little city of Washington was thrown into con- 
sternation. The cannon of the brief conflict at Bladensburg echoed 
through the streets of the metropolis. The whole population fled 
from the city. The President, leaving Mrs. Madison in the White 
House, with her carriage drawn up at the door to await his speedy 
return, hurried to meet the officers in a council of war. He met 
our troops utterly routed, and could not go back without danger 
of being captured. She writes to her sister, under date of Wednes- 
day, Aug. 12, 1814, twelve o'clock at noon, — 

" Since sunrise, I have been turning my spy-glass in every 
direction, and watching with unwearied anxiety, hoping to discern 
the near approach of my dear husband and his friends ; but, alas \ 
I can descry only groups of military wandering in all directions, 
as if there was a lack of arms, or of spirit to fight for their own 
firesides. 

" Three o^clock. — Will you believe it, my sister? we have had a 
battle, or skirmish, near Bladensburg ; and I am still here, within 
sound of the cannon. Mr. Madison comes not: may God protect 
him ! Two messengers, covered with dust, came to bid me fly ; 
but I wait for him. At this late hour, a wagon has been procured. 
I have had it filled with the plate and the most valuable portable 
articles belonging to the house. Whether it will reach its desti- 
nation, — the Bank of Maryland, — or fall into the hands of British 
soldiery, events must determine." 

But a few hours elapsed ere the Presidential Mansion, the Capitol,, 
and all the public buildings in Washington, were in flames. A 
^ew months after this great humiliation, the British made an 
attempt upon New Orleans. They were repulsed by Gen. Jack- 
son with great slaughter. Napoleon was now overpowered. Th© 



JAMES MADISON. 165 

allied despots were triumphant, and, assembled in Congress at 
Vienna, were partitioning out the re-enslaved nations of Europe 
between them. Their one great object was so to divide Europe, 
that the people should not again have the opportunity to rise 
against the old regimes of tyranny. Truthfully does " The British 
Quarterly " say, — 

" The treaties of Vienna of 1815, though the most desperate 
efforts have been made by the English diplomatists to embalm 
them as monuments of political wisdom, are fast becoming as dead 
as those of Westphalia. In fact, they should be got under ground 
with all possible despatch ; for no compacts so worthless, so 
wicked, so utterly subversive of the rights of humanity, are to be 
found in the annals of nations." 

England was the leading power in this Congress. The British 
cabinet, flushed with victory, was never more arrogant than then. 
England was now prepared to turn her whole immense armament 
against our country. We were sadly divided among ourselves. The 
New-England States were so hostile to the war, as seriously to 
embarrass the Government. Never was our country enveloped in 
deeper gloom. Commissioners had been sent to Ghent to obtain 
peace with the British crown, if it could possibly be obtained on 
any reasonable terms. 

About noon of the 13th of February, 1815, a strange rumor was 
found floating through Washington, — that a treaty of peace had 
been signed at Ghent. Gathering strength as it flew, the whole 
city was soon in a state of the most intense excitement. Whence 
came the story, no one could satisfactorily tell. At length, after 
diligent inquiring, it appeared that a private express had rapidly 
passed through the city, bearing the important tidings to merchants 
in the South. Still it was but a rumor. Mr. Gales, editor of '' The 
National Intelligencer," anxious to obtain some reliable informa- 
tion upon an event so momentous, called upon President Madison, 
lie found him sitting alone, in the dusk of the evening, apparently 
pondering the prodigious change which the news, if true, would 
produce in public affairs. 

The President, always affable, never excited, was inclined to 
credit the report. He knew that mercantile zeal might outrun 
political ardor. His manner was so composed, his spirits so tran- 
quil and unrufiled, that one not acquainted with his perfect power 
over himself might have supposed it a matter of much indifferencd 
to him whether the report were true or false. 



166 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Information then, when there were neither railroaJs nor tele- 
graph wires, travelled slowly. It was not until late in the after- 
noon of the next day, that a coach, drawn by four foaming horses, 
came thundering down Pennsylvania Avenue, with official commu 
nication of the glad tidings. What pen can describe the excite- 
ment of that hour, as cheers burst from all lips ? The drawing-room 
at the President's mansion Avas speedily thronged. Mrs. Madison 
was there, radiant with joy, the President being absent with his 
cabinet. In a moment, to use the expressive phrase of John 
Adams, the country had passed from " gloom to glory." 

No one rejoiced more heartily than did President Madison. It 
had been with the utmost reluctance that he had been forced into 
a war. England did not relinquish her claim of the " right of 
search ; " but, as there was peace in Europe, there was no longer 
any motive to continue the practice. It was, of course, inexpedient 
for the United States to persist in the war for a mere abstraction. 
It is safe to say that Great Britain will never again undertake to 
drag a man from the protecting folds of the stars and stripes. 
Americans of all coming ages will revere the memory of James 
Madison for resisting such wrongs. " I am an American citizen " 
will henceforth be an argument which will command the respect 
of the world. 

On the 4tlj of March, 1817, his second term of oiSce expired, 
and he resigned the presidential chair to his friend James Monroe. 
Happy in his honorable release from the cares of state, he retired 
to the leisure and repose of his beautiful retreat at Montpelier. 
He was within a day's ride of Monticello, and was thus, in the esti- 
mation of a Virginian, a near neighbor of Mr. Jefferson. Here, in 
his paternal home, imbosomed among the hills, a victor in life's 
stern battle, he passed peacefully the remainder of his days 

The mansion was large and commodious, situated at the base of 
a high and wooded hill. A fine garden behind the house, and a 
spacious lawn in front, contributed their embellishments to the 
rural scene, where over countless acres the undulating expanse 
was covered with the primeval forest. The venerable mother of 
Mr. Madison still resided with her son, the object of his unceasing 
and most affectionate attentions. One wing of the mansion was 
appropriated to her. 

" By only opening a door," writes a visitor, " the observer passed 
from the elegances, refinements, and gayeties of modern life, into 



JAMES MADISON: 167 

all that was venerable, respectable, and dignified in gone-by days ; 
from the airy apartments, windows opening to the ground, hung 
with light silken drapery, French furniture, light fancy chairs, gay 
carpets, to the solid and heavy carved and polished mahogany 
furniture darkened by age, the thick, rich curtains, and other more 
comfortable adjustments, of our great-grandfathers' times." 

Mr. Madison's health was delicate. He was much beloved by 
liis neighbors and friends; and, though his union had not been 
blessed with children, his accomplished and amiable wife was ever 
to him a source of the greatest happiness. Nineteen years of life 
still remained to him. He seldom left his home, though he took 
much interest in the agricultural prosperity of the country, and very 
cordially co-operated with President Jefferson in watching over 
the affairs of the university at Charlottesville. 

In 1829, he consented to become a member of the convention 
at Richmond to revise the Constitution of the State. Small in 
stature, slender and delicate in form, with a countenance full of 
intelligence, and expressive alike of mildness and dignity, he 
attracted the attention of all who attended the convention, and was 
treated with the utmost defierence. He seldom addressed the 
assembly, though he always appeared self-possessed, and watched 
with unflagging interest the progress of every measure. Though 
the convention sat for sixteen weeks, he spoke but twice ; but, 
when he did speak, the whole house paused to listen. His voice 
was feeble, though the enunciation was very distinct. One of the 
reporters — Mr. Stansbury — relates the following anecdote of 
the last speech he made. Having carefully written out the speech, 
he sent the manuscript to President Madison for his revision. 

" The next day, as there was a great call for it, and the report 
had not been returned for publication, I sent my son with a 
respectful note, requesting the manuscript. My son was a lad of 
about sixteen, whom I had taken with me to act as amanuensis. 
On delivering my note, he was received with the utmost politeness, 
and requested to come up into Mr. Madison's chamber, and wait 
while he ran his eye over the paper, as company had, until that 
moment, prevented his attending to it. He did so ; and Mr. 
Madison sat down, pen in hand, to correct the report. The lad 
stood near him, so that his eye fell on the paper. Coming to a 
certain sentence in the speech, Mr. Madison struck out a word, 
and substituted another ; but hesitated, and, not feeling quite 
eatisfied with the second word, drew his pen through it also. 



168 LIVES OF THE Ph^SIDEXTS. 

"My son was young, ignorant of the world, and unconscious of 
the solecism of which he was about to be guilty, when, in all sim 
plicity, he suggested a word. Yes, he ventured, boy that he was, 
to suggest to James Madison an improvement in his own speech I 
Probabl}^ no other individual then living would have taken such a 
liberty. But the sage, instead of regarding such an intrusion with 
a frown, raised his eyes to the boy's face with a pleased surprise, 
and said, * Thank you, sir ; it is the very word,' and immediately 
inserted it. I saw him the next day, and he mentioned the cir- 
cumstance, with a compliment on the young critic." 

On the 28th of June, 1836, Mr. Madison, then eighty-five years 
of age, fell asleep in death. His memory is embalmed in a nation's 
veneration and gratitude. Like all public men, exposed to much 
obloquy in his political life, that obloquy has now so passed away, 
that we can scarcely believe that it ever existed. In a glowing 
tribute to his memory, uttered by the venerable ex-President John 
Quincy Adams, the following words, eloquent in their truthfulness, 
were uttered : — 

" Of that band of benefactors of the human race, the founders of 
the Constitution of the United States, James Madison is the last 
who has gone to his reward. Their glorious work has survived 
them all. They have transmitted the precious bond to us, now 
entirely a succeeding generation to them. May it never cease to 
be a voice of admonition to us, of our duty to transmit the inher- 
itance unimpaired to our children of the rising age ! " 

Mrs. Madison survived her husband thirteen years, and died on 
the 12th of July, 1849, in the eighty-second year of her age. She 
was one of the most remarkable women our country has produced ; 
and it is fitting that her memory should descend to posterity in 
company with that of the companion of her life. 



CHAPTER V. 

JAMES MONROE. 

Parentago and Birth. — Education. — Enters the Army. — A Legislator. — A Senator. — Po- 
litical Views. — Mission to France. — Bonaparte. — Purchase of Louisiana. — Untriend- 
liness of England. — Prospective Greatness of America. — Washington's Views of the 
French Revolution. — Col. Monroe Governor. — Secretary both of War and of State. — 
Elected to the Presidency. — Northern Tour. — Purchase of Spain. — Sympathy with 
Revolutionary Soldiers. — The Monroe Doctrine. — Retirement and Death. 

Many years ago, there was a hotly contested election in Vir- 
ginia, when two young men, James Madison and Jaraes Monrot^, 




KESIUEXCE UF JA.Mlis JIONUUE. 



were rival candidates for some local oflSce. The friends of b<4tlj 
parties were exhausting their energies to bring every voter to the 
polls. A very infirm and aged man was transported from a con- 

22 169 



170 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

siderable distance, ia a wagon, by the friends of Mr. Madison. As 
he was sitting in the building, waiting for his opportunity to vote, 
the name of James Monroe struck his half-paralyzed ear. He 
started up, and inquired if James Monroe was the son of the man 
of that name who some years ago lived and died in the province. 
Upon being told that he was the grandson of that person, the old 
man exclaimed with emotion, — 

" Then I shall vote for James Monroe. His grandfather be- 
friended me when I first came into the country, fed me and clothed 
me, and I lived in his house. I do not know James Madison. I 
shall vote for James Monroe." 

Virtues seem to be often hereditary. That same spirit of be- 
nevolence which prompted the grandfather to feed and clothe and 
shelter the child of want descended to his children and his chil- 
dren's children. The Monroe Family were among the first who 
emigrated to this country, and selected their home in what is now 
Westmoreland County, Ya., — that beautiful expanse of fertile 
land which is spread out on the western banks of the Potomac. 
They were the near neighbors of the Washington Family ; and, 
being the owners of a large estate, were in comparative opulence. 

James Monroe, who became fifth President of the United States, 
was born upon his father's plantation on the 28th of April, 1758. 
At that time, Virginia presented an aspect somewhat resembling 
feudal Europe in the middle ages. Here and there, in wide dis- 
persion, were to be seen the aristocratic mansions of the planters, 
while near by were clustered the cheerless hovels of the poor and 
debased laborers. There were intelligence, culture, luxury, in the 
ealoons of the master ; debasement, ignorance, barbarism, in the 
cabin of the slaves. 

James Monroe, in childhood, like all his predecessors thus far 
in the presidential chair, enjoyed all the advantages of educa- 
tion which the' country could then afford. He was early sent 
to a very fine classical school, and at the age of sixteen entered 
William and Mary College. It was his intention to study law. 
But the cloud of the great Revolution which sundered the colonies 
from the mothei'-countr}'- was gathering blackness ; and young 
Monroe, an earnest, impetuous, vigorous youth, whose blood 
coursed fiercely through his veins, could not resist his impatience 
to become an active participator in the scenes which were opening. 

In 1776, when he had been in college but two years, the 



JAMES MONROE. 171 

Declaration of Independence was adopted, and our feeble militia, 
without arms or ammunition or clothing, were struggling against 
the trained armies of England. James Monroe left college, has- 
tened to Gen. Washington's headquarters at New York, and en. 
rolled himself as a cadet in the army. 

It was one of the gloomiest hours in our history. The British 
\^ere sweeping all before them. Our disheartened troops were de- 
serting in great numbers; and the Tories, favoring the cause of Eng- 
land, were daily becoming more boastful and defiant. But James 
Monroe belonged to the class of the indomitable. With courage 
which never faltered, he took his place in the ranks. Firmly yet 
sadly he shared in the melancholy retreat from Harlaem Heights 
and White Plains, and accompanied the dispirited army as it fled 
before its foes through New Jersey. In four months after the 
Declaration of Independence, the patriots had been beaten in seven 
battles. 

At Trenton, Lieut. Monroe so distinguished himself, receiving 
a wound in his shoulder, that he was promoted to a captaincy. 
Upon recovering from his wound, he was invited to act as aide to 
Lord Sterling ; and in that capacity he took an active part in the 
battles of Brand}' wine, Germantown, and Monmouth. At German- 
town, he stood by the side of Lafayette when the French marquis 
received his wound. Gen. Washington, who had formed a high idea 
of young Monroe's abilities, sent him to Virginia to raise a new 
regiment, of which he was to be colonel ; but so exhausted was 
Virginia at that time, that the effort proved unsuccessful. He, how- 
ever, received his commission. 

Finding no opportunity to enter the army as a commissioned 
officer, he returned to his original plan of studying law, and 
entered the office of Thomas Jefferson, who was then Governor 
of Virginia. Mr. Jefferson had a large and admirable library, and 
inspired his pupil with zeal for study. He developed a very noble 
character, frank, manly, sincere. Abounding with kindliness of feel- 
ing, and scorning every thing ignoble, he won the love of all who 
knew him. Mr. Jefferson said of him, — 

" James Monroe is so perfectly honest, that, if his soul were 
turned inside out, there would not be found a spot on it." 

In 1782, when but twenty-three years of age, he was elected 
to the Assembly of Virginia, and was also appointed a member of 
the Executive Council. The next year, he was chosen delegate to 



172 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the Continental Congress for a term of three years. He was pres- 
ent at Annapolis when Washington surrendered his commission of 
commander-in-chief. Young as Col. Monroe was, he proved him- 
self in Congress a very efficient man of business. 

With Wasliington, Jefferson, and Madison, he felt deeply the in- 
efficiency of the old Articles of Confederation, and urged the for- 
mation of a new Constitution, which should invest the Centr^il 
Government witli something like national power. Influenced by 
these views, he introduced a resolution that Congress should be 
empowered to regulate trade, and to lay an impost-duty of five 
per cent. The resolution was referred to a committee of which 
he was chairman. The report, and the discussion which rose 
upon it, led to the convention of five States at Annapolis, and the 
subsequent general convention at Philadelphia, which, in 1787, 
draughted the Constitution of the United States. 

At this time, there was a controversy between New York and 
Massachusetts in reference to their boundaries. The high esteem 
in which Col. Monroe was held is indicated by the fact that he 
was appointed one of the judges to decide the controversy. While 
in New York attending Congress, he formed a matrimonial connec- 
tion with Miss Kortright, a young lady distinguished alike for her 
beauty and her accomplishments. For nearly fifty years this hap- 
py union continued unbroken, a source of almost unalloyed hap- 
piness to both of the parties. In London and in Paris, as in her 
own country, Mrs. Monroe won admiration and affection by the 
loveliness of her person, the brilliancy of her intellect, and the 
amiability of her character. 

Returning to Virginia, Col. Monroe commenced the practice 
of law at Fredericksburg. He was almost immediately elected 
to a seat in the State Legislature ; and the next year he was 
chosen a member of the Virginia Convention, which was as- 
sembled to decide upon the acceptance or rejection of the Consti- 
tution which had been drawn up at Philadelphia, and was now 
submitted to the several States. Deeply as he felt the imperfec- 
tions of the old Confederacy, he was opposed to the new Constitu- 
tion, thinking, with many others of the Republican party, that it 
gave too much power to the Central Government, and not enough 
to the individual States. Still he retained the esteem of his friend's, 
who were its warm supporters, and who, notwithstanding his op- 
position, secured its adoption. In 1789, he became a member of 



JAMES MONROE. 173 

the United-States Senate; which office he held acceptab.y to his 
constituents, and with honor to himself, for four years. Every 
month, the line of distinction between the two great parties which 
divided the nation, the Federal and the Republican, was growing 
more distinct. The two promiaent ideas which now separated 
them were, that the Republican party was in sympathy with 
Prance, and was also in favor of such a strict construction of the 
Constitution as to give the Central Government as little power, and 
the State Governments as much power, as the Constitution would 
warrant. The Federalists sympathized with England, and were 
in favor of a liberal construction of the Constitution, which would 
give as much power to the Central Government as that document 
could possibly authorize. 

Mr. Monroe, having opposed the Constitution as not leaving 
enough power with the States, of course became more and more 
identified with the Republican party. Thus he found himself 
in cordial co-operation with Jefferson and Madison. The great 
Republican party became the dominant power which ruled the 
land. But we can imagine the shades of John Adams and Alex- 
ander Hamilton rising from their graves in the midst of our 
awful civil war, and exclaiming, sadly yet triumphantly, *' Did we 
not tell you so ? Has it not been that very doctrine of State sover- 
eignity which has plunged our land into this conflict? and have 
you not found it necessary, that you might save the country from 
destruction, to arm the Constitution with those very powers which 
we were so anxious' to stamp upon it?" 

The leading Federalists and Republicans were alike noble men, 
consecrating all their energies to the good of the nation. Two 
more honest men or more pure patriots than John Adams the 
Federalist, and James Monroe the Republican, never breathed. In 
building up this majestic nation, which is destined to eclipse all 
Grecian and Assyrian greatness, the combination of their antago- 
nisms was needed to create the right equilibrium. And yet each, 
in his day, was denounced as almost a demon. Let this considera- 
tion, hereafter, allay the biterness of party-strife. 

George Washington was then President. England had espoused 
the cause of the Bourbons against the principles of the French 
Revolution. All Europe was drawn into the conflict. We were 
feeble, and far away. President Washington issued a proclama- 
tion of neutrality between these contending powers. France had 



l74 LIFi:S OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

helped us in the struggle for our liberties. All the despotisms of 
Europe were now combined to prevent the French from escaping 
from tyranny a thousand-fold worse than that which we had endured. 
Col. Monroe, more magnanimous than prudent, was anxious that, 
at whatever hazard, we should help our old allies in their extrem 
ity. It was the impulse of a generous and a noble nature. He 
violently opposed the President's proclamation, as ungrateful, and 
wanting in magnanimity. 

Washington, who could appreciate such a character, developed 
his calm, serene, almost divine greatness, by appointing that very 
James Monroe, who was denouncing the policy of the Government, 
as the minister of that Government to the republic of France. 
He was directed by Washington to express to the French people 
our warmest sympathy, communicating to them corresponding 
resolves approved by the President, and adopted by both houses 
of Congress. 

Mr. Monroe was welcomed by the National Convention in 
France witli the most enthusiastic demonstrations of respect and 
affection. He was publicly introduced to that body, and received 
the embrace of the president, Merlin de Douay, after having been 
addressed in a speech glowing with congratulations, and with ex- 
pressions of desire that harmony might ever exist between the 
two countries. The flags of the two republics were intertwined 
in the hall of the convention. Mr. Monroe presented the Ameri- 
can colors, and received those of France in return. The course 
which he pursued in Paris was so annoying to England, and to 
the friends of England in this country, that, near the close of 
Washington's administration, Mr. Monroe was recalled. 

Mr. Pickering, Secretary of State, who was a fanatical hater of 
France, and proportionably an adulator of England, sent an angry 
despatch to Mr. Monroe, charging him with '•' expressing a solici- 
tude for the welfare of the French republic in a style too warm 
and affectionate, by which we were likely to give offence to other 
countries, particularly to England." 

In reply to this, Mr. Monroe states in his '• View " the instruc- 
tions he received from Washington, Avhich are interesting as show 
ing the personal feelings of Washington towards France. He 
writes, — 

" My instructions enjoined it on me to use my utmost endeavors 
to inspire the French Government with perfect confidence in the 



JAMES MONROE. 175 

Bolicitude which the President felt for the success of the French 
Revolution ; of his preference of France to all other nations, as the 
friend and ally of the United States; of the grateful sense which 
we still retained for the important services that were rendered us 
by France in the course of our Revolution ; and to declare in ex- 
(>licit terms, that although neutrality was the lot we preferred, 
yet, in case we embarked in the war, it would be on her side, and 
against her enemies, be they who they might." 

In 1796, President Washington addressed the French minister 
in the following words : " My best wishes are irresistibly excited, 
whensoever, in any country, I see an oppressed nation unfurl the 
banner of freedom; but, above all, the events of the French Revo- 
lution have produced the deepest solicitude as well as the high- 
est admiration. To call your nation brave, were to pronounce but 
common praise. Wonderful people ! Ages to come will read with 
astonishment your brilliant exploits. In delivering to you these 
sentiments, I express not my feelings only, but those of my fellow- 
citizens, in relation to the commencement, the progress, and the 
issue of the French Revolution." 

All despotic Europe combined against the enfranchised nation. 
In the frenzy of the unequal fight, France was plunged into anar- 
chy; from which she was rescued by Napoleon, into whose impe- 
rial arms, in her dire necessity, she had cast herself. And then 
all despotic Europe turned its arms against that one man. He 
was crushed. The unfurled banner of "Equal Rights," which he 
had so grandly borne aloft, was trampled in the dust;'and subju- 
gated France again bowed her neck to the old feudal tyranny. 

While Mr. Monroe was our minister in France, Mr. Jay, with 
strong English proclivities, was our ambassador at the court of 
St. James. He was ever ready to enter into a commercial treaty 
which would favor that country at the expense of our old ally. 
Mr. Jay, with other men of his party, scouting the idea that any 
thanks were due to France for the aid she had rendered us in the 
Revolution, was not disposed to discriminate in the least in her 
favor. Hence there was intense antagonism between Col. Monroe 
and Mr. Jay. 

Col. Monroe, after his return, wrote a book of four hundred 
pages, entitled " A View of the Conduct of the Executive in 
Foreign Affairs." In this work, he very ably advocated his side 
of the q lestion : but, with magnanimity characteristic of the man, 



176 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

he recorded a warm tribute to the patriotism, ability, and spotless 
integrity, of John Jay ; and, in subsequent years, he expressed 
in warmest terms his perfect veneration for the character of 
George Washington. 

Shortly after his return to this country, Col. Monroe was 
elected Governor of Virginia, and held that office for three years, 
— the period limited by the Constitution. In the year 1802, it was 
announced that Spain had ceded to France that vast territory, ex- 
tending fiom the Mississippi to the Pacific, which was called 
Louisiana. Napoleon, then at the head of the armies of revolu- 
tionary France, with " Liberte, Fraternite, Egalite," inscribed on 
their banners, was trampling down those despots who had banded 
together to force back the execrated old regime of the Bourbons 
upon the emancipated empire. Most of our knowledge of what 
was transpiring on the continent of Europe came to us through the 
English press. Never had a story been more falsely told than 
that press had narrated, — the struggle of the French people for 
equal rights, in the revolution and in the establishment of the 
empire. 

The name of Bonaparte became a terror throughout the United 
States. Mothers frightened their disobedient children with the 
threat that Bonaparte would get them. It was proclaimed that 
the conqueror of Europe had only reserved us as his last victim ; 
that, taking possession of this vast territory of Louisiana, and land- 
ing upon it countless legions of his triumphant veterans, he would 
sweep the country from New Orleans to Canada, establish his em- 
pire here, and trample our liberties in the dust. The writer of this 
well remembers his terror, when a child, in contemplation of this 
invasion by that Napoleonic monster whom we had been taught to 
regard as the embodiment of all evil. 

Mr. Livingston was then our minister to France. He drew up 
a very able memorial to the First Consul, arguing that it would be 
for the true interest of both countries that France should cede the 
province of Louisiana to the United States. It was so manifest 
that the United States must have the control of the mouths of the 
Mississippi, thruugh which alone the most majestic valley on our 
globe could have access to the ocean, that our most sagacious 
statsmen felt assured, that, if we could not obtain this province 
by treaty, it would inevitably involve us ere long in war. 

Mr. Jefferson was then President. He was beloved in France. 



JAMES MONROE. Ill 

The memory of James Monroe was cherished there with universal 
respect and afiection. He was accordingly sent to co-operate with 
Chancellor Livingston, to endeavor to obtain by treaty, if possible, 
this vast possession. Their united efforts were successful. For 
the comparatively small sum of fifteen millions of dollars, though a 
very large one for us in those days, "the entire territory of Orleans, 
and district of Louisiana," were added to the United States. It 
has been truly said that this was probably the largest transfer of 
real estate which was ever made since Adam was presented with 
the fee-simple of Paradise. The country thus obtained was in ex- 
tent equal to the whole previous territory of the Union. It is 
universally admitted that Mr. Monroe's influence was very promi- 
nent in this measure, and he ever regarded it as the most im- 
portant of his public services. We have now such a territory in 
magnitude, and adaptation to human wants, as no other nation 
on this globe ever possessed. 

From France, Mr. Monroe went to England to obtain from that 
government some recognition of our rights as neutrals, and to re- 
monstrate against those odious impressments of our seamen which 
were fast rousing the indignation of the country to the highest 
pitch. But England was unrelenting. He then went to Spain, by 
way of Paris, where he saw Napoleon crowned. In Spain, he 
endeavored, though unavailingly, to adjust a controversy which 
had arisen respecting the eastern boundary of the territory, which 
that government had ceded to France, and France to us. Napo- 
leon, in his cession, had copied the same words which Spain had 
used in conveying the territory to France. 

Our relations with England were daily becoming more menacing. 
We would not willingly revive old griefs to perpetuate animosi- 
ties : we would gladly have past wrongs forgotten, that kindly 
sympathies may pervade the whole human brotherhood. But 
it is the duty of the biographer and the historian to hold up 
the errors of the past as a warning for the future. There is 
not a nation on this globe, savage or civilized, which regards 
with cordial friendship the British Government. For the last 
half-century, England has been the leading power among the na- 
tions. Her demeanor has been arrogant, haughty, and overbear- 
ing. The powerful have been repelled by her proud assumptions, 
and the weak have been trampled upon in undisguised contempt. 

23 



178 LIVES OF THE PBESIDEXTS. 

England is no longer the leading power in the world, and there are 
none who mourn to see her shorn of lier strength. 

Let America take warning. It is as important that a nation 
should have the good will of all surrounding powers as that an 
individual should be loved by his neighbors. Let us be courteous, 
obliging, and un.-elfish in our intercourse with the strong, and 
sympathetic, gentle, and helping to the weak. Let us try to 
prove the world's great benefactor, the friend and comforter of 
our brother man everywhere struggling beneath the heavy bur- 
den of life. 

England, despising our feeble navy, forbade our trading with 
France : and seized and confiscated mercilessly our merchant-ships 
bound to any port in France or Spain, wherever her cruisers could 
arrest them. Mr. Monroe again returned to England, almost in 
the character of a suppliant ; for our Government was extremely 
averse to adopt any measures which could lead to war. The adminis- 
tration was even taunted with the declaration, that it " could not 
be kicked into a war." No redress could be obtained. Mr. Mon- 
roe returned to this country, bearing with him a treaty which was 
so very unsatisfactory, that the President was not willing to sub- 
mit it to the Senate. Plundered merchants and ruined ship- 
owners poured in upon Congress petitions and remonstrances, 
and there was a cry throughout the land that that government 
was recreant to its trust which did not protect its citizens from 
outrage. 

At this time, Mr. Monroe, at the age of forty-eight, returned to 
his quiet home in Virginia, and with his wife and children, and 
an ample- competence from his paternal estate, enjoyed a few 
years of domestic repose. 

In the year 1809, Mr. Jefferson's second term of office expired. 
Many of the Republican party were anxious to nominate James 
Monroe as his successor. The majority were in favor of Mr. 
Madison. Mr. Jefferson also favored Mr. Madison, as being the 
more moderate man, and the more likely to carry the votes of the 
whole party. Mr. Mo'.ioe withdrew his name, and was soob after 
chosen a second time Governor of Virginia. He soon resigned 
that office to accept the position of Secretary of State, offered 
him by President Madison. The correspondence which he then 
carried on with the British Government demonstrated that there 
was no hope of any peaceful adjustment of our difficulties with 



JAMES MONROE. 179 

the cabinet of St. James. "War was consequently declared in 
June, 1812. Immediately after the sack of Washington, the Sec- 
retary of War resigned ; and Mr. Monroe, at the earnest request 
of Mr. Madison, assumed the additional duties of the War De- 
partment, without resigning his office of Secretary of State. 
It has been confidently stated, that, had Col. Monroe's energy 
been in the War Department a few months earlier, the disaster at 
Washington would not have occurred. 

The duties now devolving upon Mr. Monroe were extremely 
arduous. Ten thousand men, picked from the veteran armies of 
England, were sent, with a powerful fleet, to New Orleans, to ac- 
quire possession of the mouths of the Mississippi. Our finances 
were in the most deplorable condition. The treasury was exhausted, 
and our credit gone ; and yet it was necessary to make the most 
vigorous preparations to meet the foe. In this crisis, James Mon- 
roe,, the Secretary of War, with virtue unsurpassed in Greek or 
Roman story, stepped forward^ and pledged his own individual 
credit as subsidiary to that of the nation, and thus succeeded in 
placing the city of New Orleans in sixh a posture of defence, 
that it was enabled successfully to repel the invader. 

Mr. Monroe was truly the armor-bearer of President Madicon, 
and the most efficient business-man in his cabinet. His energy, 
in his double capacity of Secretary both of State and War, pervaded 
all the departments of the country. With the most singular 
unselfishness, regardless both of his private interests and his polit- 
ical popularity, he advocated every measure which in his judgment 
would aid in securing the triumph of his country. He proposed 
to increase the army to a hundred thousand men, — a measure 
which he deemed absolutely necessary to save us from igno- 
minious defeat, but which, at the same time, he knew would 
render his name so unpopular, as to preclude the possibility of 
his being a successful candidate for the presidency. He conversed 
freeiy with his friends upon the subject, and calmly decided to 
renounce all thoughts of the presidential chair, while he urged 
that conscription which would enter every dwelling in search 
of a soldier. 

The happy result of the conference at Glient in securing peace 
rendered the increase of the army unnecessary ; but it is not too 
much to saj, that James Monroe placed in the hands of Andrew 
Jackson the weapon with which he beat off the foe at New 



180 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Orleans. Upon the return of peace, Mr. Monroe resigned tbo 
Department of War, devoting himself exclusively to the duties 
of the Secretary of State. These he continued to discharge until 
the close of President Madison's administration, with zeal which 
never abated, and with an ardor of self-devotion which made 
h'm almost forgetful of the claims of fortune, health, or life. 

]\Ir. Madison's second terra of office expired in March, 1817; 
and Mr. Monroe, thoroughly acquainted with all the affairs (^f the 
nation, and perfectly versed in all the duties before him, suc- 
ceeded to the presidency. He was the candidate of the Hopub- 
lican party, now taking the name of Democratic Republican; and 
was chosen by a large majority. There seemed to be for a time 
a lull in party strife. Mr. Monroe was a man of ability, at 
home in all statesmanlike duties, more familiar than peihaps any 
other person with our internal and foreign relations :" he was a 
man of unblemished character, of honesty of purpose, and purity 
of patriotism Avhich no man coul i question. A better choice 
could not have been made. His inaugural was conciliatory, and 
pleased all. The Constitution which he had opposed, wishing 
merely to introduce some amendments before it was adopted, he 
now admitted to be nearly perfect. 

It has been said, happy is that nation which has no history; for 
history is but a record of revolutions and battles. There is but 
little to be recorded during the eight years in which President 
Monroe was at the head of the administration of our Government. 
They were years of prosperity and peace. In forming his cabinet, 
Mr. Monroe placed the Department of State in the hands of John 
Quincy Adams. Florida was purchased of Spain for five millions 
of dollars, by the exercise of that power which Mr. Monroe, in his 
inexperienced days, had been so reluctant to confer upon the 
General Government. 

In June of 1817, President Monroe took a very extensive jour- 
ney through the States, visiting all the fortifications. He was 
everywhere received with enthusiasm. He was conveyed up the 
Delaware from Wilmington to the navy-yard in Philadelphia in a 
barge of the " Franklin " (seventy-four). The barge was lined and 
trimmed with crimson velvet, and rowed by sixteen oarsmen, 
dressed in scarlet vests, white sleeves and trousers. The President 
v;o-'e a dark-blue coat, buff vest, doe-skin buff-colored breeclies, 
and top-boots, with a military cocked-hat of the fashion of the 



JAMES MONROE. 



181 



K*rolution, and a black-ribbon cockade. His route led him througli 
New York, New Haven, Hartford, and Springfield, to Boston. 




THE BAEGE. 



His reception in Boston was very imposing, A cavalcade of 
citizens met him on the Neck, and escorted him through the prin* 
cipal streets of the city to rooms sumptuously prepared for his 
reception in the Exchange Coffee House. Salutes were fired 
from Dorchester Heights, the Common, and the forts in the bar- 
bor. State Street was brilliantly decorated; and the crowd which 
was gathered in the commercial emporium of New England was 
greater than had ever been seen there since the visit of Wash- 
ington. 

From Boston, he passed through New Hampshire and Vermont, 
to Plattsburg in New York, and thence continued his journey to 
Ogdensburg, Sackett's Harbor, and Detroit, returning to Washing- 
ton the latter part of September. His long and fatiguing tour, 
which then occupied four months, could now be easily performed 
in three weeks. 

When President Monroe was a young man of eighteen, he was 
wounded at the battle of Trenton. Passing through Hanover, 



182 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

N.H., in this tour, he called upon the widow of President Whee« 
lock of Dartmouth College, who, when a young lady at her 
father's house, had with her own hands prepared the bandages 
with which the surgeon had dressed the wound. In pensive 
memory of the past, the care-worn statesman and the bereaved 
widow exchanged their sympathetic greetings, and then sepa- 
rated, not again to meet on this earth. 

All along his route, President Monroe met his old companions in 
arms, many of whom were impoverished. One friend he found 
whom he had known as a young, scholarly, accomplished officer, 
and who had contributed iavishiy of his fortune to feed and clothe 
the soldiers of his regiment, but whose threadbai*e garments too 
plainly bespoke the poverty which had come with his gray hairs. 
The President was deeply moved, and, on his retiring, spoke with 
great warmth of the neglect of our country in making provision 
for the wants of those who had shed their blood for our independ- 
ence. On his return to Washington, he exerted himself in secur- 
ing a pension-law to cheer the declining years of these fast- 
disappearing veterans. 

In 1821, President Monroe was re-elected, with scarcely any 
opposition. Out of 232 electoral votes, Mr. Monroe had 231. The 
slavery question, which subsequently assumed such formidable 
dimensions, threatening to whelm the whole Union in ruins, now 
began to make its appearance. The State of Missouri, which had 
been carved out of that immense territory which we had pur- 
chased of Prance, applied for admission to the Union with a 
slavery constitution. There were not a few who foresaw the evils 
impending. In the long and warm debate which ensued, Mr. 
Lourie of Maryland said, — 

'* Sir, if the alternative be, as gentlemen broadly intilnate, a dis- 
solution of the Union, or the extension of slavery over this whole 
western country, I, for one, will choose the former. I do not sa}'- 
this lightly. I am aware that the idea is a dreadful one. The 
choice is a dreadful one. Either side of the alternative fills my 
mind with horror. I have not, however, yet despaired of the Re- 
public." 

After the debate of a week, it was decided that Missouri could 
not be admitted into the Union with slavery. The question was 
at length settled by a compromise, proposed by Henry Clay. 
Missouri was admitted with slavery on the 10th of May, 1821 ; and 



JAMES MONROE. 183 

slavery was prohibited over all the territory ceded by France, 
north of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, north latitude. 

The famous " Monroe Doctrine," of which so much has recently 
been said, originated in this way: In the year 1823.it was ru- 
mored that the Holy Alliance was about to interfere, to prevent 
the establishment of republican liberty in the European colonies 
in South America. President Monroe wrote to his old friend 
Thomas Jefferson, then the sage of Monticello, for advice in the 
emergency. In the reply, under date of Oct. 24, Mr. Jefferson 
writes upon the supposition that our attempt to resist this Euro 
pean movement might lead to war, — 

" Its object is to introduce and establish the American system 
of keeping out of our land all foreign powers; of never permitting 
those of Europe to intermeddle with the affairs of our nation. It 
is to maintain our own principle, not to depart from it." 

A few weeks after this, on the 2d of December, 1823, Presi- 
dent Monroe sent a message to Congress, declaring it to be the 
policy of this Government not to entangle ourselves with the 
broils of Europe, and not to allow Europe to interfere with affairs 
of nations on the American continents ; and the doctrine was 
announced, that any attempt on the part of the European powers 
"to extend their system to any portion of this hemisphere would 
be regarded by the United States as dangerous to our peace and 
safety." 

On the 4th of March, 1825, Mr. Monroe, surrendering the 
presidential chair to his Secretary of State, John Quincy Adams, 
retired, with the universal respect of the nation, to his private 
residence at Oak Hill, in Loudon County, Va. His time had been 
so entirely consecrated to the country, that he had neglected his 
own pecuniary interests, and was deeply involved in debt. In de- 
votion to his duties, he had engaged "in labors outlasting the daily 
circuit of the sun, and outwatching ttie vigils of the night." The 
welfire of the country — the whole country — had ever been the 
one prominent thought in his mind. If we allow the panorama of 
his life to pass rapidly before us, we see him, just emerging from 
boyhood, weltering in blood on the field of Trenton ; then, still a 
youth, he is seated among the sages of the land, forming the laws; 
then he moves with power which commands attention and respect 
in the courts of Britain, France, and Spain, defending the rights 
of his country ; then his native State raises him to the highest 



184 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

honor in her gift, and twice places in his hand the sceptre of 
gubernatorial power; again we behold him successfully forging the 
thunderbolts of war with which to repel invasion, while at the 
same time he conducts our diplomatic correspondence, and frames 
our foreign policy, with jealous and often hostile nations ; and 
again we see him, by the almost unanimous voice of his country- 
men, placed in the highest post of honor the nation could olTer, — 
the Presidency of the United States ; and then, with dignity, he 
retires to a humble home, a poor man in worldly wealth, but 
rich in all those excellences which can ennoble humanity. 

For many years, Mrs. Monroe was in such feeble health, that she 
rarely appeared in public. In 1830, Mr. Monroe took up his resi- 
dence with his son-in-law in New York, where he died on the 
4th of July, 1831, at the age of seventy-three years. The citi- 
zens of New York conducted his obsequies with pageants more 
imposing than had ever been witnessed there before. Our country 
will ever cherish his memory with pride, gratefully enrolling his 
name in the list of its benefactors, pronouncing him the worthy 
successor of the illustrious men who had preceded him in the 
presidential chair. 



CHAPTER V:. 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 

Bii Ih and Childhood. — Education la Europe. — Private Secretary. — Enters Harvard CoUej^ 

— Studies Law. — Minister to the Netherlands. — Commendation of Washington Othei 

Missions. — Return to America. — Elected to the Massachusetts Senate. — To the Na- 
tional House of Representatives. — Alienation of the Federalists. — Professor of Rhetoric . 

— Mission to Russia. — Anecdote of Alexander. — Treaty of Ghent. Secretary of 
State. — President. — Unscrupulous Opposition. — Retirement. — Returned to the House 
of Representatives. — Signal Services. — Public Appreciation. — Death. 

John Quincy Adams, the sixth President of the United States, 
was born in the rural home of his honored father. John Adamj, 




EESIDENCE OF JOHX QUINCY ADAMS. 



m Quincv, Mass., on the 11th of July, 1767. .His mother 
a woman of exalted worth, watched over his childhood dmh.g the 

24 185 



186 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

almost constant absence of his father. At the village school he 
commenced his education, giving at an early period iiidications 
of superior mental endowments. When but eight years of age, he 
stood with his mother upon an eminence, listening to the booming 
of the great battle on Bunker's Hill, and gazing upon the smoke 
and flame billowing up from the conflagration of Charlestown. 
Often, during the siege of Boston, he watched the shells thrown 
day and night by the combatants. 

When but eleven years old, he took a tearful adieu of his 
mother, and was rowed out in a small boat to a ship anchored in 
the bay, to sail with his father for Europe, through a fleet of hos- 
tile British cruisers. The bright, animated boy spent a year and 
a half in Paris, where his father was associated with Franklin and 
Lee as minister plenipotentiary. His intelligence attracted the 
notice of these distinguished men, and he received from them 
flattering marks of attention. 

Mr. John Adams had scarcely returned to this country in 1779 
ere he was again sent abroad, empowered to negotiate a treaty 
of peace with England, whenever England should be disposed to 
end the war. Again John Quincy accompanied his father. On 
this voyage he commenced a diary, noting down the remarkable 
events of each day ; which practice he continued, with but few 
interruptions, until his death. With his active mind ever alert, he 
journeyed nith his father from Ferrol in Spain, where the frigate 
landed, to Paris. Here he apphed himself with great diligence, 
for six months, to study ; then accompanied his father to Holland, 
where he entered, first a school in Amsterdam, and then the Uni- 
versity of Leyden. About a year from this time, in 1781, when 
the manly boy was but fourteen years of age, he was selected by 
Mr. Dana, our minister to the Russian court, as his private secre- 
tary. 

In this school of incessant labor and of ennobling culture he 
spent fourteen months, and then returned to Holland through 
Sweden, Denmark, Hamburg, and Bremen, This k>ng journey he 
took alone, in the winter, when in his sixteenth year. Ag-tin he 
resumed his studies, under a private tutor, at the Hague. Thence, 
in the spring of 1782, he accompanied his father to Paris, travel- 
ling leisurely, and forming acquaintance with the most distin- 
guished men on the Continent; examining architectural remains, 
galleries of paintings, and all renowned works of art. At Paris> 



JOHN QUINGY ADAMS. 187 

he again became the associate of the most illustrious meu of all 
lands in the contemplation of the loftiest temporal themes which 
can engross the human mind. After a short visit to England, he 
returned to Paris, and consecrated all his energies to study until 
May, 1785, when he returned to America, leaving his father our 
ambassador at the court of St. James. To a brilliant young man 
of eighteen, who had seen much of the world, and who was famil- 
iar with the etiquette of courts, a residence with his father in 
London, under such circumstances, must have been extremely 
attractive ; but, with judgment very rare in one of his age, he 
preferred to return to America to complete his education in an 
American college. He wished then to study law, that, with an 
honorable profession, he might be able to obtain an independent 
siupport. 

The advancement which he had already made in education was 
euch, that, in 1786, he entered the junior class in Harvard Univer- 
sity. His character, attainments, and devotion to study, secured 
alike the respect of his classmates and the faculty, and he gradu- 
ated with the second honor of his class. The oration he delivered 
on this occasion, upon the '' Importance of Public Faith to the Well- 
being of a Community," was published; an event very rare in this 
or in any other land. 

Upon leaving college, at the age of twenty, he studied law for 
three years with the Hon. Theophilus Parsons in Newburyport. 
In 1790, he opened a law-office in Boston. The profession was 
crowded with able men, and the fees were small. The first year, he 
had no clients ; but not a moment was lost, ^z his eager mind trav- 
ersed the fields of all knowledge. The second year passed away ; 
still no clients ; and still he was dependent upon his parents for sup- 
port. Anxiously he entered upon the third year. He had learned 
to labor and to wait. The reward now came, — a reward richly 
merited by the purity of his character, the loftiness of his princi- 
ples, and his intense application to every study which would aid 
him to act well his part in life. Clients began to enter his office ; 
and, before the close of the year, he was so crowded with business, 
that all solicitude respecting a support was at an end. 

When Great Britain commenced Avar against France, in 1793, to 
arrest the progress of the French Revolution, Mr. Adams wrote 
some articles, urging entire neutrality on the part of the United 
States. The view was not a popular one. Many felt, that, as 



188 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

France had helped us, we were bound to help France. But Presi 
dent Washington coincided with Mr. Adams, and issued his proc- 
lamation of neutrality. His writings at this time in the Boston 
journals attracted national attention, and gave him so high a repu- 
tation for talent, and familiarity with our diplomatic relations, that 
in June, 1794, he, being then but twenty-seven years of age, was 
appointed by Washington resident minister at the Netherlands. 

Sailing from Boston in July, he reached London in October, 
where he was immediately admitted to the deliberations of Messrs. 
Jay and Pinckney, assisting them in negotiating a commercial 
treaty with Great Britain. After thus spending a fortnight in 
London, he proceeded to the Hague, where he arrived just after 
Holland was taken possession of by the French under Pichegru. 
The French gathered around Mr. Adams, as the representative of 
a nation which had just successfully passed through that struggle 
for liberty in which they were then engaged. 

In the agitated state of Europe, swept by the great armies 
struggling for and against "equal rights for all men," there was 
but little that a peaceful ambassador could then accomplish ; but, 
being one of the most methodical and laborious of men, he devoted 
himself to oflScid duties, the claims of society, reading the ancient 
classics, and familiarizing himself with the languages of modern 
Europe. Every hour had its assigned duty. Every night he 
reviewed what he had done for the day ; and, at the close of every 
month and every year, he subjected his conduct to rigorous retro- 
spection. 

In July, 1797, he left the Hague to go to Portugal as minister 
plenipotentiary. Washington at this time wrote to his father, 
John Adams, — 

" Without intending to compliment the father or the mother, or 
to censure any others, I give it as my decided opinion, that Mr. 
Adams is the most valuable character which we have abroad ; and 
there remains no doubt in my mind that he will prove himself the 
ablest of all our diplomatic corps." 

On his way to Portugal, upon his arrival in London, he met with 
despatches directing him to the court of Berlin, but requesting 
him to remain in London until he should receive his instructions. 
While waiting, he was married to an American lady to whom he 
had been previously engaged, — Miss Louisa Catharine Johnson, 
daughter of Mr. Joshua Johnson, American consul in London ; a 



JOHN qUINCY ADAMS. 18y 

lady endowed with that beauty and those accomplishments which 
eminently fitted her to move in the elevated sphere for which 
she was destined. 

Mr. Adams was very reluctant to accept the mission to Berlin, 
as it was an appointment made by his father, who had succeeded 
Washington in the presidential chair. But his father wrote to 
him, informing him of the earnest wish of Washington that the 
country might not lose the benefit of his familiarity with the Euro- 
pean courts. To his mother, John Quincy wrote, in reply, — 

"I know with what delight your truly maternal heart has 
received every testimonial of Washington's favorable voice. It is 
among the most precious gratifications of my life to reflect upon 
the pleasure which my conduct has given to my parents. How 
much, my dear mother, is required of me to support and justify 
such a judgment as that which you have copied into your letter ! " 

He reached Berlin with his wife in November, 1797 ; where he 
lemained until July, 1799, when, having fulfilled all the purposes 
of his mission, he solicited his recall. In the mean time, he travelled 
extensively through the German States, writing a series of letters 
which were subsequently published. As soon as permission came 
for his return, he embarked, and reached the United States in Sep- 
tember. .1801. 

Soon after his return, in 1802, he was chosen to the Senate of 
Massachusetts from Boston, and then Avas elected senator of the 
United States for six years from the 4th of March, 1804. Alike 
the friend of Washington and Jefierson, with cordial commenda- 
tions from them both, he was in an admirable position to take an 
independent stand, unbiassed by partisan prejudices. His reputa- 
tion, his ability, and his experience, placed him immediately among 
the most prominent and influential members of that body. In 
every measure which his judgment approved, he cordially sup- 
ported Mr. Jefferson's administration. Especially did he sustain 
the Government in its measures of resistance to the encroachments 
of England, destroying our commerce and insulting our flag. 
There was no man in America more familiar with the arrogance 
of the British court upon these points, and no one more resolved' 
to present a firm resistance. 

This course, so truly patriotic, and which scarcely a voice will 
now be found to condemn, alienated from him the Federal party 
dominant in Boston, and subjected him to censure. In 1805, ha 



190 LlVJfJS OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was chosen professor of rhetoric in Harvard College ; and this m 
defatigable man, m addition to his senatorial duties, entered vigor- 
oug'y upon a course of preparatory studies, reviewing his classics, 
and searching the literature of Europe for materials for his lec- 
tures. The lectures he thus prepared were subsequently published, 
and constitute enduring memorials of his genius and his industry. 

On the 22d of June, 1807, an event occurred to which we have 
referred, and to which it is necessary to allude more particu- 
larly. 

On the 7th of June, 1807, the United-States frigate " Chesapeake" 
proceeded to sea from Norfolk. The British man-of-war " Leopard," 
knowing that she was to sail, had preceded her by a few hours ; 
keeping advantage of the weather-gauge. As soon as "The Chesa- 
peake " was fairly out to sea, " The Leopard" came down upon her, 
hailed her, and said she had despatches to send on board. Commo- 
dore Barron of "The Chesapeake "answered the hail, and said that 
he would receive a boat. A British lieutenant came on board, and 
presented an order from the British admiral, which stated that he 
had reason to believe that there were four British subjects among 
the seamen of " The Chesapeake," and ordered Commodore Barron 
to muster the crew that he might select them. 

The commodore refused. As soon as informed of this by the 
return of the boat's crew, "The Leopard" commenced firing upon 
"The Chesapeake," and for fifteen minutes continued pouring in her 
broadsides, though " The Chesapeake" was in such a condition, thus 
taken by surprise, as not to be able to answer by a single gun. 
Three men were killed, and Commodore Barron and nine others 
wounded. " The Chesapeake's " flag was struck. The English cap- 
tain refused to receive her as a prize, but took four men from the 
crew, whom he claimed as Englishmen. One of these soon after 
died ; one he hung as a deserter ; the two others were eventually 
returned to " The Chesapeake " as Americans. 

This outrage roused general indignation. A meeting was called 
at the State House in Boston. But few Federalists attended. 
Mr. Adams presented resolutions, which were unanimously adopted. 
His father, the Ex-President, acted with him in this movement. 
For this they were both denounced as apostates from the Federal 
party. President Jefferson called a special meeting of Congress 
to act upon this affair. Mr. Adams earnestly supported the meas- 
ures of Mr. Jefferson's cabinet, when it proposed, in response to 
this outrage, that — 



JOHN qUINCY ADAMS. 191 

" No British armed vessel shall be permitted to enter the hc"irbc;ra 
and waters under the jurisdiction of the United States, except 
when forced in by distress, by the dangers of the sea, or when 
charged with public despatches, or coming as a public packet." 

John Quincy Adams, in a letter to James Otis, dated 'March, 1808, 
writes, " Examine the oflScial returns from the Department of State. 
They give the names of between four and five thousand men 
impressed since the commencement of the present war, of which 
not one-ffth part were British subjects. I hazard little in saying 
that more than three-fourths were native Americans. If it be said 
that some of these men, though appearing on the face of the 
returns American citizens, were really British subjects, and had 
fraudulently procured their protections, I reply, that this number 
must be far exceeded by the cases of citizens impressed which 
never reach the Department of State. The American consul in 
London estimates the number of impressments during the war 
at three times the amount of the names returned." Thus England 
dragged from our ships fifteen thousand men, whom she claimed 
as her subjects, and forced into her men-of-war to fight her battles. 
There was no trial by a court to substantiate a claim. Neither 
Tripoli nor Algiers ever perpetrated a grosser outrage. 

Mr. Adams, averring that the course the Administration proposed 
was the only safe one for the country, became upon this point 
separated from his Federal friends, and allied to the Administration; 
and his services were recognized with gratitude by Mr. Jefferson. 
The Legislature of Massachusetts gave such unequivocal indication 
of their displeasure with Mr. Adams, that he addressed to them a 
letter, stating that he deemed it his duty to support the Adminis- 
tration in those measures which to him seemed essential to the 
dignity and safety of the country ; but, as the Legislature had dis- 
approved of his course, he resigned his seat, that they might have 
an opportunity to place in the Senate of the United States a mem- 
ber whose views would be more consonant with those which they 
entertained. 

J^mes Lloyd was immediately chosen to fill the place thus 
Vacated by one whose renown filled two hemispheres. Mr. Adams 
icturned to his professorship, not only neglected and avoided by 
his old friends, but assailed by them with the bitterest invectives. 
From this weight of obloquy he had no relief but in the approval 
of his own conscience, and his anticipation of that verdict which 
posterity has already rendered. 



192 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

In 1809, Madison succeeded Jefferson in the presidential chair; 
and he immediately nominated John Quincy Adams minister to 
St. Petersburg. "Washington had declared that Mr. Adams was 
the ablest of the diplomatic corps, and that he must not think of 
retiring from that service. Stung by the treatment he had received 
from the Federalists in Boston, Mr. Adams abandoned the Federal 
party, and allied himself earnestly with Mr. Madison in his admin- 
istration. 

Resigning his professorship, he embarked at Boston with Mrs. 
Adams and their youngest son in August, 1809, and, after a stormy 
passage, reached St. Petersburg on the 23d of October. Twice 
their ship, which was a merchantman, was stopped and searched 
by British cruisers ; and, but for Mr. Adams's firmness and thorough 
acquaintance with the law of nations, the ship would not have 
been permitted to continue to its port of destination. 

He was received by the Emperor Alexander alone in his cabinet, 
and a warm attachment immediately sprang up between those 
illustrious men ; and thus was laid the foundations of that friend- 
ship which binds the two nations together to the present day. I 
have before spoken of the arrogance assumed by the British Gov- 
ernment in the days of its power, which has alienated from that 
government the sympathies of all nations. I have spoken of this 
as a warning to America, now that we are stepping forward to be 
the leading nation upon the globe. The following anecdote will 
illustrate this sentiment : — 

A short time ago, a small party of American military officers were 
travelling upon the Danube. They met a party of Russian officers. 
The Russians gave them very manifestly the cold shoulder, so 
repelling the slightest advances as to indicate emphatically that 
they desired no acquaintance whatever. After thus travelling 
together for half a day, one of the Russian officers overheard a 
remark which led him to step forward, and inquire, '' Gentlemen, 
may I take the liberty to ask if you are Americans ? " — " We are," 
was the response. Instantly they weie surrounded with all cor- 
dial greetings. " We beg your pardon," said one ; " we beg your 
pardon : but we thought you were English, and we all hate the 
English." 

Mrs. Adams became a great favorite with the imperial family. The 
emperor, influenced by the kindliness with which he regarded our 
minister and his family, tendered to the British Government the 



JOHN qUINCY ADAMS. 193 

offer of his mediation in the war which soon after broke out between 
Great Britain and America. Though England decHned the media- 
tion, she felt constrained by the offer to propose to treat directly. 
Thus peace was effected. 

The Danish Government had sequestered much American prop- 
erty in the ports of Holstein. Upon an intimation from Mr. 
Adams, the emperor sent word to that government that it would 
be gratifying to him if the American property cculd be restored aa 
soon as possible. The request was immediately granted. The 
foreign ministers at the Russian court were generally living in the 
greatest magnificence : but Mr. Adams received so small a salary, 
that he was compelled tc practise the most rigid economy. He 
was expected to attend the splendid entertainments of others, but 
could give none in return. One morning, as he was out walking, 
he met the emperor, who came cordially up to him, and, clasping 
his hand, said, — 

" Why, Mr. Adams, it is a hundred years since I have seen you ! " 
After some common observations, he inquired, " Do you intend 
to take a house in the country this summer? " 

*' No," Mr. Adams replied : " I had that intention for some time, 
but have given it up." 

" And why ? " inquired the emperor. Then, observing a little 
hesitation in Mr. Adams's manner, he relieved him from his embar- 
rassment by saying in perfect good humor, and with a smile, 
" Perhaps it is from considerations of finance." 

" Those considerations are often very important," Mr. Adams 
replied. " You are right," rejoined the emperor : " it is always 
necessary to proportion one's expenses to one's receipts." 

While in Russia, Mr. Adams was an intense student. He devoted 
his attention to the language and histoiy of Russia ; to the Chinese 
trade ; to the European system of weights, measures, and coins ; to 
the climate, and astronomical observations ; while he kept up a 
familiar acquaintance with the Greek and Latin classics. In all 
the universities of Europe, a more accomplished scholar could 
scarcely be found. All through life, the Bible constituted an 
important part of his studies. It was his rule every day to read 
five chapters. He also read with great attention the works of 
the most eminent theologians. With this eagerness in the pursuit 
of knowledge, it is not surprising that he should write to a 
friend, — 

25 



194 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" I. feel nothing like the tediousness of time. I sujBTer nothing 
like ennui. Time is too short for me rather than too long. If the 
day was forty-eight hours, instead of twenty-four, 1 could employ 
them ail, if I bad but eyes and hands to read and write." 

In 1811, President Madison nominated Mr. Adams to a seat on 
the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States ; but he 
declined the ai^pointment. As England had consented, in response 
to the Ruosian offer of mediation, to treat for peace, Mr. Adams 
was appointed, v^ith Mr. Gallatin and Mr. Bayard, to conduct the 
negotiations. The commissioners met at Ghent, Mr. Adams took 
the leading part. The Marquis of Welleslsy, in commenting upon 
the treaty which v»^as then entered into, czid in the British House 
of Lords, — 

" In my opinion, the American commiasioue"3 have shown the 
most astonishing superiority over the English during the whole of 
the correopoudence." 

From Ghent, Mr. Adams went to Paris, where he chanced to be 
when the Emperor Napoleon returned from Elba and again took 
possession of the Tuileries. Mrs. Adams joined him here ; and 
they proceeded together to London, he having been appointed 
minister to the British court. He arrived in London on the 25th 
of May, 1815. 

Taking up his residence in the country, about nine miles from Lon- 
don, he again resumed his vigorous habits of study, while attend- 
ing energetically to his diplomatic duties, and receiving the atten- 
tions which his official station and his renown caused to be lavished 
upon him. Both Mr. and Mrs. Adams were honored with a private 
audience with the queen, and were present at the marriage of tho 
Princess Charlotte with Leopold. The most eminent men of all 
classes sought Mr. Adams's acquaintance. He had an interview 
with Mr. Canning, *' in which the illustrious statesman," says Mr. 
Adams, " seemed desirous to make up by an excess of civility for 
the feelings he had so constantl}'- manifested against us." 

On the 4th of March, 1817, Mr. Monroe took the presidential 
chair, and immediately appointed Mr. Adams Secretary of State. 
Taking leave of his numerous friends in public and private life 
in Europe, he sailed in June, 1819, for the United States. On the 
18th of August, he again crossed the threshold of his home in 
Quincy, and, after an absence of eight years, received the embraces 
oi" his venerable father and mother, whom he found in pe-to-o' 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 195 

health. After a short visit home, he repaired to Washington, and 
entered upon his new duties, as thoroughly prepared for them, in 
ability, education, and experience, as cue could be. During the 
eight years of Mr. Monroe's administration, Mr. Adams continued 
Secretary of State. Few will now contradict the assertion, that 
the duties of that office were never more ably discharged. Prob- 
ably the most important measure which Mr. Adams conducted 
was the purchase of Florida from Spain for five million dollars. 

Some time before the close of Mr. Monroe's second term of 
office, new candidates began to be presented for the presidency. 
The friends of Mr. Adams brought forward his name, urging in 
his favor the unblemished purity of his character, his abilities and 
acquirements, the distinguished services he bad rendered his 
country, and his extraordinary familiarity with ail our foreign and 
domestic relations. 

It was an exciting campaign. Party spirit was never more 
bitter. Two hundred and sixty electoral votes were cast. 
Andrew Jackson received ninety-nine ; John Quincy Adams, eighty- 
four ; William H. Crawford, forty-one ; Henry Clay, thirty-seven. 
As there was no choice by the people, the question went to the 
House of Representatives. Mr. Clay gave the vote of Kentucky 
to Mr. Adams, and he was elected. 

The friends of all the disappointed candidates now combined in a 
venomous and persistent assault upon Mr. Adams. There is 
nothing more disgraceful in the past history of our country than 
the abuse which was poured, in one uninterrupted stream, upon 
this high-minded, upright, patriotic man. There never was an 
administration more pure in principles, more conscientiously 
devoted to the best interests of the countrj'-, than that of Joliu 
Quincy Adams ; and never, perhaps, was there an administration 
more unscrupulously and outrageously assailed. It throws a shade 
over one's hopes of humanity thus to see patriotism of the most 
exalted character hunted down as though it were the vilest 
treason. Mr. Adams, with a mind enlarged by familiarity with all the 
governments of Europe, and with affections glowing with love for 
his own countrj'-, took his seat in the presidential chair, resolved 
not to know any partisanship, but only to consult for the interests 
of the whole republic. He refused to dismiss any man from office 
for his political views. Under his government, no man suffered 
for his political opinions. If he were a faithful officer, that was 



196 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

enough. Bitter must have been Mr. Adams's disappointment to 
find that the nation could not appreciate such nobihty of character 
and conduct. The four years that he occupied the presidential chair 
must have been years of anguish, imbittered by the reflection, that 
could he have stooped to the partisanship of dismissing from office 
every one who did not vote for him, and of filling every post at 
his disposal with those who would pledge themselves intensely to 
his support, he might perhaps have fought off his enemies, and 
have secured a re-election. Virtue does not always, in this world, 
triumph. 

Mr. Adams, in his public manners, was cold and repulsive ; though 
it is said that with his personal friends he was at times very genial. 
fn his public receptions and official intercourse, he often appeared 
" with a formal coldness, that froze like the approach to an iceberg." 
This chilling- address very seriously detracted from his popularity. 
When the result of the election which placed Mr. Adams in the 
presidential chair was known, the rival candidates, and especially 
their friends, experienced disappointment amounting to anguish. 
Mr. Cobb, one of the warmest partisans of Mr. Crawford, was 
afraid to call upon him with the announcement of his defeat. He 
shrank from witnessing the shock of his chiefs disappointment. 
Gen. Jackson was indignant, and he nursed his wrath in secret, 
while, externally, he appeared unconcerned and cheerful. A few 
days after the event, Mr. Cobb wrote to his friends, — 

''The presidential election is over, and you Avill have heard the 
result. The clouds were black, and portentous of storms of no 
ordiriary character. They broke in one horrid burst, and straight 
dispelled. Every thing here is silent. The victoi's have no cause 
to rejoice. There was not a single window lighted on the occa- 
sion. A few free negroes shouted, ' Huzza for Mr. Adams ! ' but 
they were not joined even by the cringing populace of this place. 
The disappointed submit in sullen silence. The friends of Jack- 
son grumbled, at first, like the rumbling of distant thunder ; but 
the old man himself submitted without a change of countenance. 
Mr. Crawford's friends changed not their looks. They command 
universal respect. Crawford will return home, and we must do the 
best we can with him. Should he and our friends wish that he should 
again go into the Senate, the way shall be open for him. I am sick 
M\di tired of every thing here, and wish for nothing so much as 
private life. My ambition is dead." 



JOHN qUINCY ADAMS. 197 

The evening after the election, Mr. Monroe held a presidential 
levee. All Washington crowded to the White House, eager to 
pay homage to the rising sun. Mr. S. G. Goodrich happened to 
be present, and with his graphic pen has described the scene : — 

" I shall pass over," he writes, " other individuals present, only 
noting an incident which respects the two persons in the assem- 
bly, who, most of all others, engrossed the thoughts of the visrcors, 
— Mr. Adams the elect. Gen. Jackson the defeated. It chanced 
in the course of the evening, that these two persons, involved in 
the throng, approached each other from opposite directions, yet 
without knowing it. Suddenly, as they were almost to^'ethcr, the 
persons around, seeing what was to happen, by a sort of instinct 
stepped aside, and left them face to face. Mr. Adams was by him- 
self : Gen. Jackson had a large, handsome lady on his arm. They 
looked at each other for a moment ; and then Gen. Jackson moved 
forward, and, reaching out his long arm, said, ' How do you do, 
Mr. Adams ? I give you my left hand ; for the right, as you see, is 
devoted to the fair. I hope you are very well, sir. All this was gal- 
lantly and heartily said and done. Mr. Adams took the general's 
hand, and said, with chilling coldness, ' Very well, sir : I hope Gen. 
Jackson is well.' 

" It was curious to see the Western planter, the Indian fighter, 
the stern soldier, who had written his country's glory in the blood 
of the enemy at New Orleans, genial and gracious in the midst of 
a court ; while the old courtier and diplomat was stiff, rigid, cold as 
a statue. It was all the more remarkable from the fact, that, four 
hours before, the former had been defeated, and the latter was the 
victor, in a struggle for one of the highest objects of human ambi- 
tion. The personal character of these two individuals was, in fact, 
well expressed in that chance-meeting, — the gallantry, the frank- 
ness, the heartiness, of the one, which captivated all ; the coldness, 
the distance, the self concentration, of the other, which repelled 
all." 

No one can read the impartial record of John Quincy Adams's 
administration without admitting that a more noble example of 
uncompromising integrity can scarcely be found. It was stated 
publicly that Mr. Adams's administration was to be put down, 
" though it be as pure as the angels which stand at the right hand 
of the throne of God." Not a few of the active participants in 
<;hose scenes lived to regret the course they pursued. Some 



S93 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

years after, Mr. Warren R. Davis of South Carolina, turning to 
Mr. Adams, then a member of the House of Representatives, 
said, — 

"Well do I remember the enthusiastic zeal with which we 

reproached the administration of that gentleman, and the ardor and 

vehemence with which we labored to bring in another. For the 

sliare I had in those transactions, — and it was not a small one, 

-■I hope God will forgive me; for I never shall forgive myself. ^^ 

Mr. Adams was, to a very remarkable degree, abstemious and 
tamp^^rate in his habits ; always rising early, and taking much 
exorcise. When at his home in Quincy, he has been known to 
walk seven miles to Boston before breakfast. In Washington, it 
was t^aid that he was the first man up in the city, lighting his own 
fire, and applying himself to work in his library often long before 
the dawn. He was an expert swimmer, and was exceedingly fond 
of bati::'ng • and was in the habit in the summer, every morning, of 
plunging- into the Potomac with all the sportiveness of a boy. He 
sometimes made the journey from Quincy to Washington on 
horseback, accompanied by a single attendant. 

On the 4th of March, 1829, Mr. Adams retired from the presi- 
dency, and was succeeded by Andrew Jackson. John C. Calhoun 
was elected Vice-President. The slavery question now began to 
assume portentous magnitude. Mr. Adams returned to Quincy 
and to his studies, which he pursued with unabated zeal. But he 
was not long permitted to remain in retirement. In November, 
1880, he was elected representative to Congress. He thus recog- 
nized the Roman principle, that it is honorable for the general of 
yesterday to act as corporal to-day, if by so doing he can render 
service to his country. Deep as are the obligations of our repub. 
lie to John Quincy Adams for his services as ambassador, as Secre- 
tary of State, and as President, in his capacity as legislator in the 
House of Representatives he conferred benefits upon our land 
which eclipsed all the rest, and which can never be over-esti- 
mated. 

For seventeen years, until his death, he occupied the post of 
representative, towering above all his peers, ever ready to do 
brave battle for freedom, and winning the title of " the old man 
eloquent." Upon taking his seat in the house, he announced that 
he should hold himself bound to no party. Probably there was 
never a member of the house more devoted to his duties. He was 



JOHN QUINCT ADAMS. 1S9 

usually the first in his place in the morning, and the last to leave 
his seat in the evening. Not a measure could bo brought forward, 
and escape his scrutiny. The battle which Mr. Adams fought, 
almost singly, against the proslavery party in the Government, 
was sublime in its moral daring and heroism. For persisting in 
presenting petitions for the abolition of slavery, he was threatened 
with indictment by the grand jury, with expulsion from the house, 
with assassination ; but no threats could intimidate him, and his 
final triumph was complete. 

On one occasion, Mr. Adams presented a petition, signed by sev- 
eral women, against the annexation of Texas for the purpose of 
cutting it up into slave States. Mr. Howard of Maryland said 
that these women discredited not only themselves, but their sec- 
tion of the country, by turning from their domestic duties to tha 
conflicts of political life. 

" Are women," exclaimed Mr. Adams, " to have no opiniona or 
actions on subjects relating to the general welfare ? Where did the 
gentleman get this principle ? Did he find it in sacred history, — in 
the language of Miriam the prophetess, in one cf the noblest and 
most sublime songs of triumph that ever met the human eye or 
ear? Did the gentleman never hear of Deborah, to whom the chil- 
dren of Israel came up for judgment? Has he forgotten the deed 
of Jael, who slew the dreaded enemy of her country? Has he 
forgotten Esther, who by her petition saved her people and her 
country ? 

" To go from sacred history to profane, does the gentleman there 
find it ' discreditable ' for women to take an interest in political 
afiairs ? Has he forgotten the Spartan mother, who said to her son, 
when going out to battle, ' My son, come back to me with thy 
shield, or upon thy shield ' ? Does he not remember Cloelia and her 
hundred companions, who swam across the river, under a shower 
of darts escaping from Porsena ? Has he forgotten Cornelia, tho 
mother of the Gracchi ? Does he not remember Portia, the wife of 
Brutus and the daughter of Cato ? 

" To come to later periods, what says the history of our Anglo- 
Saxon ancestors ? To say nothing of Boadicea, the British heroine 
in the time of the Cassars, what name io more illustrious than that 
of Elizabeth ? Or, if he vvill go to the Continent, will he not find the 
names of Maria Theresa of Hungary, of the two Catharines of 
Russia, and of Isabella of Castillo, the patroness of Columbus. Did 
she bring ' discredit ' on her sex by mingling in politics ? " 



200 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

In this glowing strain, he silenced and overwhelmed his antago 
nists. Congress, yielding to the proslavery spirit of the South, 
passed a resolve in January, 1837, " that all petitions relating to 
slavery, without being printed or referred, shall be laid on the 
table, and no action shall be had thereon." Some of the proslavery 
party forged a petition, as if from slaves, to see if Mr. Adams 
would dare to present it. 

On the 6th of February, 1837, Mr. Adams rose with this forged 
petition in his hand, and eaid, " I hold a paper- purporting to come 
from slaves. I wish to know if such a paper comes within the 
order of the house respecting petitions." 

The strange sensitiveness of the house upon this subject may be 
inferred from the fact, that a storm of indignation was instantly 
roused. Yti^addy Thompson of South Carolina, Charles E. Haynea 
of Georgia, Dixon IT. Lewis of Alabama, sprang to the floor, pre- 
senting resolutions, " that John Quincy Adams, by attempting to 
present a petition purporting to be from slaves, has been guilty of 
gross disrespect to the house, and that he be instantly brought to 
the bar to receive the severe censure of the speaker." 

Never were assailants more thoroughly discomfited. " Mr. 
Speaker," said Mr. Adams, '' to prevent the consumption of time, 1 
ask the gentlemen to modify their resolution a little, so that, when 
I come to the bar of the house, I may not, by a word, put an end 
to it. I did not present the 2)etition. I said that I had a pape. pur- 
porting to be a petition from slaves ; and I asked the speaker 
whether he considered such a paper as included in the general 
order of the house, that all petitions relating to slavery should be 
laid upon the table. I intended to take the decision of the speaker 
before I went one step toward presenting that petition. This is 
the fact. 

" I adhere to the right of petition. Where is your law which 
says the mean, the low, the degraded, shall be deprived of the right 
of petition ? Petition is supplication, entreaty, prayer. Where is the 
degree of vico or immorality which shall deprive the citizen of 
the right to cupplicate for a boon, or to pray for mercy ? Where is 
such a ]c.w to be found ? It does not belong to the most abject 
despotism. There is no absolute monarch on earth, who is not 
compelled, by the constitution of his country, to receive the peti- 
tio^is of his people, whosoever they may be. The Sultan of Con- 
stantinople cannot walk the streets, and refuse to receive petitions 



JOHN qUINCY ADAMS. 201 

from the meanest and vilest in the land. The right of petition 
belongs to all ; and, so far from refusing to present a petition 
because it might come from those low in the estimation of the 
world, it would be an additional incentive, if such an incentive 
were wanting." 

After a debate of extreme bitterness^ running through four days, 
only twenty votes could be found to cast any censure upon Mr. 
Adams. There was perhaps never a fiercer bfcttlf^ fought in legis- 
lative halls than Mr. Adams waged, for nearly a score of years, 
with the partisans of slavery in Congress. In every encounter, he 
came off victor. We have not space, in this brief sketch, to refer 
to his labors to secure a right appropriation fcr the Smithsonian 
Fund of half a million of dollars. At the age of Geventy-four, he 
appeared in the Supreme Court of the United States, after an 
absence from that court of thirty years, to plead the cause of a 
few friendless negroes the Amistad captives, who, with their own 
strong arms, had freed themselves from the man-stealers. His 
effort was crowned with complete success ; and the T)oor Africans, 
abundantly furnished with the implements of civilized life, were 
returned to the homes from which they had been so ruthlessly 
torn. 

In 1839, Congress was for a time seriously disorganized in con- 
sequence of two delegations appearing from New Jersey, each 
claiming the election. By usage, the clerk of the preceding Con- 
gress, on the first assembling, acts as chairman until a speaker is 
chosen. When, in calling the roll, the clerk came to New Jersey, 
he stated, that, as the five seats of the members from that State were 
contested, he should pass over those names. A violent debate 
ensued. For four days there was anarchy, and it was found im- 
possible to organize the house. Mr. Adams, during all this scene 
of confusion, sat quietly engaged in writing, apparently taking no 
interest in the debate, but, like a sagacious general on the battle 
field, watching intently for the moment when he could effectually 
make a movement. 

On the morning of the fourth day, the clerk again commenced 
calling the roll. When he reached New Jersey, he again repeated. 
" as these seats are contested ; " when Mr. Adams sprang to the 
Qoor, and in clear, shrill tones, which penetrated every portion of 
the house, cried out, — 

" I rise to interrupt the clerk." 

26 



202 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

A multitude of voices shouted, " Hear him ! hear him ! — heai 
Johu Quincy Adams ! " 

In an instant, ohere was profound silence. Every eye was 
riveted upon that, venerable old man, whose years and honors, 
and purity of character, commanded the respect of the bitterest 
of his foes. For a moment he paused ; and there was such stillness 
that the fall of a sheet of paper might have been heard. Then, in 
those tones of intensity which ever arrested the attention of the 
house, he said, — 

" It was not my intention to take any part in these extraordinary 
proceedings. I had hoped that this house would succeed in organ 
izing itself. This is not the time or place to discuss the merits of con- 
flicting claimants : that subject belongs to the House of Representa- 
tivec. What a spectacle we here present ! We do not and cannot or- 
ganize ; and why? Because the clerk of this house — the mere 
clerk, whom we create, whom we employ — usurps the throne, and 
sets us, thp. v-icegerents of the whole American people, at defiance. 
And what is this clerk of yours ? Is he to suspend, by his mere nega- 
tive, the functions of Government, and put an end to this Congress. 
He refuses to call the roll. It is in your power to compel him to 
call it, if he will not do it voluntarily." 

Here he was interrupted by a member, who stated that the 
clerk could not be compelbd to call the roll, as he would resign 
rather than do so. 

" Well sir, let him cGsign," continued Mr. Adams, " and we may 
possibly discover some way by which we can get along without 
the aid of his all-powerful talent, learning, and genius. If we can- 
not organize in any other way, if this clerk of yours will not con- 
sent to our discharging the trust confided to us by our constituents, 
thea let us imitate the example of the Virginia House of Burgesses, 
v^Lich, when the colonial Gov. Dinwiddle ordered it to disperse, 
refased to obey the imperious and insulting mandate, and like 
men ' — 

Here there was such a burst of applause from the whole house, 
that, for a moment, his voice was drowned. Cheer upon cheer 
rose, shaking the walls of the Capitol. As soon as he could again 
be hea:;d, he submitted a motion, requiring the clerk to call the 
roil. '■' Kow shall the question be put ? " The voice of Mr. Adams 
was heard risiog above the tumult, as he cried out, " I intend to 
put the question myself 1 " 



JOHN qVINCY ADA'!>t?. 



205 



A.nother burst of applause followed ; when Mr. Barnwell Rlieti 
of South Carolina leaped upci one of the dosks, and shouted, " I 




JOHN QTINCV ADAMS IN IHK TIllUSl'; (iF lIErilESKNTATI VK8. 

move that tb.e Hon. John Quinc}' Adam^i tako the cbair cf the 
speaker of the house, and officiate as presiding omcer till the hcusa 
be organized by the election of its constitutional officers. As tnaaj 
ae are agrsed to this will say ' Ay ! ' " 

One universal, thundering " Ay 1 " came back in response. Mr. 
Adams was conducted to the chair, and the house was organized. 
Mr. Wise of Virginia, soon after addressing him, said, — 

" Sir, I regard it as the proudest hour of your life ; and if, wiien 
you shall be gathered to your fathers, I were asked to select the 
words, which, in my judgment, are best calculated to give at one© 
the character of the man, I would inscribe upon your tomb thia 
sentence, ' I will put the question myself " 

In January, 1842, Mr. Adams presented a petition from forty- 
five citizens of Haverhill, Mass., praying for the peaceable dissolu- 
tion of the Union. The proslavery party in Congress, who were 
then plotting the destruction of the GovemmeDt, were roused to a 



204 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

pretence of commotion such as even our stormy hall of legislatioD 
has rarely witnessed. They met in caucus, and, finding that they 
probably would not be able to expel Mr. Adams from the house, 
drew up fi njirico cf r::o:lutions, which, if adopted, would inflict 
upon him dicgrc.cs equivalent to expulsion. Mr. Adams had pre 
sented the rcci'Ar:., which was most respectfully worded, and had 
moved that it be referred to a committee instructed to report an 
ansv/cr, showing the reasons Avhy the prayer ought not to be 
-ranted. 

It was the 25th of January. The whole body of the proslavery 
part}^ came crowding together into the house, prepared to crush 
Mr. Ad&rrs forever. One of their number, Thomas F. Marshall of 
Kentucky; was appointed to read the resolutions, which accused 
Mr. Adams of high treason, of having insulted the Government, 
and of meriting expulsion ; but for which deserved punishment, the 
hou^e, in its great mercy, would substitute its severest censure. 
With aie assumption of a very solemn and magisterial air, there 
being breathless silence in the imposing audience, Mr. Marshall 
burlef^ the carefully prepared anathemas at his victim. Mr. 
Adams ctood alone, the whole proslavery party madly against him. 
As ^Do:}. as the resolutions were read, every eye being fixed upon 
him, up xz'Sb thLt bold old man, whose scattered locks were whi- 
tened by se'''e:it3^-five years ; and casting a withering glance in the 
direction of his assailants, in a clear, shrill tone, tremulous with 
suppressed emotion, he said, — 

" In reply to this audacious, atrocious charge of high treason, I 
call for the reading of the first paragraph of the Declaration of 
Independence. Read it, read it ! and see what that says of the 
right of a people to reform, to change, and to dissolve their Gov- 
ernment." 

The attitude, the manner, the tone, the words ; the venerable old 
man, with flashing eye and flushed cheek, and whose very form 
seemed to expand under the inspiration of the occasion, — all pre- 
sented a scene overawing in its sublimity. There was breathless 
silence as that paragraph was read, in defence of whose principles 
our fathers had pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred 
honor. It was a proud hour to Mr. Adams as they were all com- 
pelled to listen to the words, — 

" That, to secure these rights, governments are instituted am^ng 
men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; 



JOHN qUINCY ADAMS. 205 

and that, whenever any form of government becomes destructive 
of those ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, an I 
to institute new government, laying its foundations on such prin- 
ciples, and organizing its powers in such form, as shall seem most 
lik<ily to effect their safety and happiness." 

That one sentence baffled and routed the foe. The heroic old 
man looked around upon the audience, and thundered out, " Read 
that again ! " It was again read. Then, in a few fiery, logical 
words, he stated his defence in terms which even prejudiced minds 
could not resist. His discomfited assailants made sundry attempts 
to rally. After a conflict of eleven days, they gave up vanquished, 
and their resolution was ignominiously laid upon the table. 

It is pleasant to see that such heroism is eventually appreciated. 
In the summer of 1848, Mr. Adams took a tour through Western 
New York. His journey was a perfect ovation. In all the lead- 
ing cities, he was received with the highest marks of consideration. 
The whole mass of the people rose to confer honor upon the man 
who had battled so nobly for human rights, and whose public and 
private character was without a stain. The greeting which he 
received at Buffalo was such as that city had never before con- 
ferred upon any man. The national flag was floating from every 
masthead. The streets were thronged with the multitude, who 
greeted with bursts of applause the renowned patriot and states- 
man as soon as he appeared. The Hon. Millard Fillmore, subse- 
quently President of the United States, welcomed him in the fol- 
lowing words : — 

'' You see here assembled the people of our infant city, without 
distinction of party, sex, age, or condition, — all, all, anxiously vy- 
ing with each other to show their respect and esteem for your 
public and private worth. Here are gathered, in this vast multi- 
tude of what must appear to you strange faces, thousands whose 
hearts have vibrated to the chord of sympathy which your speeches 
have touched. Here is reflecting age, and ardent youth, and lisp- 
ing childhood, to all of whom your venerated name is dear as 
household words, — all anxious to feast their eyes by a sight of 
that extraordinary and venerable man, that old man eloquent, upon 
whose lips Wisdom has distilled her choicest nectar. Here you see 
them all, and read in their eager and joy-gladdened couatenances, 
and brightly beaming eyes, a welcome, a thrice-told, heartfelt, 
Boul-stirring welcome, to the man whom tbey delight to honor." 



206 LIVES OF THE PEESIDENTS. 

In January, 1846, when seventy-eight years of age, he took part 
in i\\Q great debate on the Oregon question, displaying intellectual 
vigor, and an extent and accuracy of acquaintance with the sub- 
ject, which excited great admiration. At the close of the session, 
on the 17th of November, he had an attack of paralysis while walk- 
ing in the streets of Boston. He, however, so far recovered, that 
he soon resumed his official duties in Washington. As he entered 
the house on the 16th cf February, 1847, for the first time since 
his illness, every member instinctively rose in token of respect ; 
and by two members he was formally conducted to his seat. After 
this, though constantly present, he took but little part in the 
debates. 

It has been said of President Adams, that when his body was 
bent and his hair silvered by the lapse of fourscore years, yield- 
ing to the simple faith of a little child, he was accustomed to repeat 
every night, before he slept, the prayer which his mother taught 
bim in his infant years. There is great moral beauty in the aspect 
of the venerable, world-worn statesman, folding his hands and clos- 
ing his eyes, as he repeated, in the simplicity and sincerity of 
childhood, the words, — 

" Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep : 
If I should die before I wake, 
I pray the Lord my soul to take." 

On the 21st of February, 1848, he rose on the floor of Congress, 
with a paper in his hand, to address the speaker. Suddenly he fell, 
again stricken by paralysis, and was caught in the arms of those 
around him. For a time he was senseless, as he was conveyed to 
a sofa in the rotunda. With reviving consciousness, he opened his 
eyes, looked calmly around, and said, '' This is the end of earth ; " 
then, after a moment's pause, he added, ''7 am content.^' These 
were his last words. His family were summoned to his side ; and 
in the apartment of the speaker of the house, beneath the dome 
of the Capitol, — the theatre of his labors and his triumphs, — he 
soon breathed his last. 

The voices of denunciation were now hushed, and all parties 
united in tributes of honor to one of the purest patriots, and one 
of the most distinguished statesmen, America has produced. 



OHAPTES VIL 



ANDREW JACKSON. 

Birth and Education. — A Bad Boy. — Keeps School. — Studies Law. — Emigrates. — Frontist 
Life. — Low Tastes. — A Representative.. — Senator. — Judge. — Shop-keeper. — Major- 
General. — Quarrels and Duels. — Marriage and its Romance. — Fight with the Ben- 
tons. — War with the Indians. — Defence of New Orleans. — Passion and Violence. — 
President of the United States. — Administration. — Retirement. — Conversion. — Re- 
ligious Character. — Death. 

" Paint me as I am," said Cromwell to the young artist. There 
were lights and shades in the character of Andrew Jackson, and 




HKItMITAGE, RESIDENCE OF ANDREW JACKSON. 

the world wishes to know him as he was. One hundred year? 
ago, in 1765, an Irishman of Scotch descent, extremel}' poor, 
emigrated, with his wife and two infant children, from the North 

207 



208 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of Ireland to South Carolina. George III. had then been five 
years on his throne. The old French wa,r, which gave Canada to 
England, had just ended. The humble emigrants had no money 
to purchase land. They, however, landing at Charleston, pene- 
trated the wild interior', in a north-west direction, a hundred and 
sixty miles, and built their log hut on a branch of the Catawba 
River, called Waxhaw Creek, formerly the seat of the Waxhuw 
Indians. They were on the boundary-line between the Carolinas. 

The lonely settlers in this wilderness of pines had reared their 
cabin, cleared an opening in the forest, and raised one crop, 
when the husband and father fell sick and died. Mrs. Jackson, 
with her two little boys, and just on the eve of again becoming a 
mother, was thus left in utter destitution. Not far from the cabin 
of the deceased, there was a room built of logs, called a church. 
The corpse was taken in a wagon ; the widow and her two chil- 
dren sat by its side ; and in a field near by the body was 
buried, no one can now tell where. 

The grief stricken widow did not return to her desolated home. 
There was nothing to draw her there. From the grave, she 
drove a few miles to the cabin of Mr. McKenney, who had married 
her sister, and who lived across the border, in North Carolina. 
There, in that lonely log hu^, in the extreme of penury, with a 
few friendly women to come to her aid, she, witliin a few days, 
ffave birth to Andrew Jackson, the child whose fame as a man 
has filled the civilized world. It was the 15th of March, 17C7. 
A few lines tell this story. But where is the pencil or the pen 
which can delineate its true pathos? — the cabin, the pain-crushed, 
heart-stricken mother, the clotheless babe, the coarse fare, the 
penury, the wild surroundings, and the cheerlessness with which 
t'-ie dark future opened before the widow and the orphans. 

Could some good angel then have opened to that Chi'stian 
mother (for bho was a true Christian of the Presbyterian faith) the 
future career of her son, — his renown, his influence, his conversion 
to Chris s his trmmphant death, and tliat honor, glory, and immor- 
tal iuy to which we trust ha has attained in the spirit-land, — she 
might have smiled through her anguish, and exclaimed, "These 
light afflictions are indeed but for a moment, and work out for us 
a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Mother and 
child have long ago met in heaven, and earthly griefs are gone 
forever. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 209 

■rhree weeks after the birth of Andrew, the widow, leaving hei 
eldest little boy with Mr. McKenney, weat with the babe and the 
other child a distance of two miles to the cabin of another brothei-- 
in-law, Mr. Crawford, whose wife was an invalid. Here Mrs. 
Jackson remained with her children for ten years, receiving the 
hospitality of her kind brother, and repaying it, as far as possible, 
by that hard work of washing, mending, and cooking, which is 
inseparable from frontier-life. 

Andrew, or Andy as he was universally called, grew up a very 
rough, rnde, turbulent boy. His features were coarse, his form 
ungainly ; and there was but very little in his character, made 
visible, which was attractive. A companion said of him, " Andy 
is the only bully I ever knew who was not a coward." A 
mother's prayers must have been ascending earnestly for him; for 
even tlien, in her utter penury, she was endeavoring to devise 
some way by which she could educate him for the Christian 
ministry. 

. When five or six years of age, he was sent to what was called 
a school, in a wretched log pen about twenty feet square. Here 
he learned to read tolerably well. Spelling was an art which he 
never attained. He learned to write in characters which those 
skilful in hieroglyphics could read. " He also became somewhat 
familiar with the four fundamental rules of arithmetic. This 
seems to be about the substance of all the school education he 
ever received. 

He grew up to be a tall, lank boy, with coarse hair and freckled 
cheeks, with bare feet dangling from trousers too short for him, 
very fond of athletic sports, running, boxing, wrestling. He was 
generous to the younger and weaker boys, but very irascible and 
overbearing with his equals and superiors. He was profane, 
marvellously profane, — a vice in which he surpassed all other men, 
and which clung to him, until, after the age of threescore years, 
he learned of Christ to " swear not at all." 

The character of his mother he revered ; and it was not until 
after her death that his predominant vices gained full strength. 
Through some unknown influence, he imbibed such a reverence 
for the character of woman, and such firm principles of purity, 
that in that respect he was without reproach. 

When nine years of age, the Declaration of Independence was 
signed. The billows of war soon swept down into the Carolina^ 

27 



210 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

bringing terror, blood, and desolation to the humble cabins oi 
the Waxhaw. More intense was the animosity, and more bittei 
the strife, between the patriot and the tory, than between the 
armies which were facing each other in the field. As Tarleton and 
his <lra,'^oons came thundering along, the older brother, Hugh, not 
yet eigiiteen years of age, rode with a volunteer company to 
meet him, and died of heat and exhaustion at the battle of Stono. 

With three hundred horsemen, Tarleton surprised a detachment 
i)f militia at the Waxhaw settlement, killed one hundred and thir- 
teen, wounded one hundred and fifty, and captured or put to flight 
all the rest. The old log meeting-house was used as a hospital. 
Mrs. Jackson was unwearied in nursing the wounded soldiers. 
Andrew, a boy of thirteen, and his brother, assisted their mother 
in these works of mercy. Andrew at times expressed the most 
intense desire to avenge their wounds and his brother's death. 

In August, 1780, the victorious army of Cornwallis rushed 
upon Waxhaw; and Mrs. Jackson, with her two boys, fled before 
them. Andrew was placed in the family of Mrs. Wilson, in Char- 
lotte, where he paid for his board by being a servant of all Avork. 
Here his rage against the British found vent in forming various 
kinds of weapons, which he would swing, expressing the delight 
it would give him thus to beat the British down. He remained 
in this place for about six months, and then the family returned 
to their ravaged home at Waxhaw. AndroAv was now fourteen, 
tall as a man, but slender and weak from his rapid growth. 
Terrible was the maddened strife in that neighborhood between 
whig and tory. A band of tories made a midnight attack upon the 
house of a whig. Andrew Jackson was there as one of the guard. 
Quite a little battle ensued, in which he behaved gallantly, and the 
tories were repulsed. This was the first time he took part in active 
service. Cornwallis sent a body of dragoons to aid the tories. 
They surrounded the patriots, routed them with slaughter, and 
Andrew and his brother were taken prisoners. A British officer 
ordered him to brush his mud-spattered boots. '* I am a prisoner 
of war, not your servant," was the reply of the dauntless boy. 

The brute drew his sword, and aimed a desperate blow at tho 
head of the helpless young prisoner. Andrew raised his hand, and 
thus received two fearful gashes, — one upon his hand, and the 
other upon his head. The officer then turned to his brother 
Robert with the same demand. He also refused, and received a 



ANDREW JACKSON. 211 

blow from the keen-edged sabre, which quite disabled him, and 
which probably soon after caused his death. 

The two wounded boys, one fourteen and the other sixteen, 
with twenty other prisoners, were hurried off to Camden in South 
Carolina, forty miles distant, where the British were in strength. 
Their brutal captors allowed them no food or water by the way, 
and would not even permit them to drink from the streams they 
tbrded. At Camden, they were thrown into a contracted en 
closure, without beds, medical attendance, or any me-ms of dress- 
ing their wounds. Their supply of food was scanty and bad. 
Days and nights of misery passed aAvay. The small-pox, in its 
most loathsome form, broke out. The dying and the dead were 
all together. Mrs. Jackson, hearing of the sufferings of her beys, 
hastened to their relief. 

There was resistless energy in a mother's love. She succeeded 
in obtaining the release of her sons by exchange, and gazed 
horror-stricken upon their wan and wasted frames. Having 
obtained two horses, she placed Robert, who was too weak to 
stand, or even to sit in his saddle, upon one, where he was held 
in his seat by some of the returning prisoners. Mrs. Jackson 
rode the other. Andrew, bareheaded, barefooted, clothed in rags, 
sick even then with the small-pox, and so weak that he could 
scarcely drag one limb after the other, toiled painfully behind. 
Thus they made their journey through the wilderness for forty 
miles, — from Camden back to Waxhaw. 

Before this sad family reached their home, a drenching rain- 
storm set in. The mother at length got her sons, both sick of 
small-pox, home and to bed. In two days, Robert wa^s dead, and 
Andrew apparently dying in the wildest ravings of .lelirium. 
The strength of his constitution triumphed ; and, after months of 
languor, he regained health and strength. 

As he was getting better, his mother heard the cry of anguish 
from the prisoners whom the British held in Charleston, among 
whom were the sons of her sisters. She hastened to their relief, 
was attacked by fever, died, and was buried where her grave 
could never afterwards be found. A small bundle of the clothing 
which she wore was the only memorial of his mother which was 
returned to her orphan boy. Thus Andrew Jackson, when four- 
teen years of age, was left alone in the world, without father, 
mother, sister, or brother, and without one dollar which he could 
call his own. 



212 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Before Andrew had fully recovered his strength, he entered a 
shop to learn the trade of a saddler, and for six months labored 
diligently in this calling. But gradually, as health returned, he 
became more and more a wild, reckless, lawless boy. He drank, 
gambled, fought cocks, and was regarded as abott the worst 
character that could anywhere be found. In December, 1782, the 
British having evacuated Charleston, Andrew, who by some means 
had come into possession of a fine horse, mounted him, and rodo 
through the wilderness to Charleston. Having no money, he soon 
ran up a long bill at the tavern. One evening, as he was strolling the 
streets, he entered a gambling-house, and was challenged to stake 
his horse against two hundred dollars. He won. With this 
money he settled his bill, mounted his horse, and rode home 
through the solitary pine-barrens, reflecting not very pleasantly 
upon the past, and forming plans for the future. 

He now turned schoolmaster. A school in a log hut in those 
wilds was a very humble institution. Andrew Jackson could 
teach the alphabet, perhaps the multiplication-table ; and, as he was 
a very bold boy, it is not impossible that he might have adventured 
to teach handwriting. And now he began to think of a profes- 
sion, and decided to study law. With a very slender purse, and 
on the back of a very fine horse, he set out for Salisbury, N.C., 
a distance of about seventy-five miles, where he entered the 
law- office of Mr. McCay. Andrew was then eighteen years of 
age. Here he remained for two years, professedly studying law. 
He is still vividly remembered in the traditions of Salisbury, 
which traditions say, — 

"Andrew Jackson was the most roaring, rollicking, game- 
cocking, horse-racing, card-playing, mischievous fellow that ever 
lived in Salisbury. He did not trouble the law-books much. 
He was more in the stable than in the ofiice. He was the head 
of all the rowdies hereabouts." 

Andrew was now, at the age of twenty, a tall young man, 
standing six feet and an inch in his stockings. He was very 
slender, but remarkably dignified and graceful in his manners, an 
exquisite horseman, and developing, amidst his loathsome profan- 
ity and multiform vices, a vein of rare magnanimity. His temper 
was fiery in the extreme ; but it was said of him, that no man 
knew better than Andrew Jackson when to get angry, and when 
not. He was fond of all rough adventures, wild riding, camping 



ANDREW JACKSON. 2i:^ 

out; loved a horse passionately; and, though sagacious and pru- 
dent, was bold in fiicing danger. The experience through which 
he had passed in the Revolution had made him a very stanch 
republican. 

He had now got his profession. Again mounting his horse, he 
rode to Martinsville, N.C., where it seems that he spent a 
year as a clerk in a country store, waiting for an opportunity 
to open an oflSce^ somewhere. The whole of that region which we 
now call Tennessee was then almost an unexplored wilderness 
called Washington County, N.C, It was ranged by bands of In 
dians, who had been so outraged by vagabonds among the whites 
that they had become bitterly hostile. Ravaged by Indian wars 
it became a burden to North Carolina, and was ceded to Congress 
There was a small settlement of pioneers, five hundred miles west 
of the summit of the Alleghanies, near the present site of Nash- 
ville, on the banks of the Cumberland. Jonesborough was another 
small settlement in East Tennessee, near the western base of the 
Alleghanies. The intervening space was a wilderness, which 
could onl}'' be traversed by parties well guarded, to repel attacks 
to which they were constantly exposed. 

Andrew Jackson was appointed public prosecutor for the re- 
mote district of Nashville. It M'as an oflfice of little honor, small 
emolument, and great peril. Few men could be found to accept 
it. Early in the spring of 1788, Jackson joined a party of 
emigrants, who rendezvoused at Morgantown, the last frontier 
settlement in North Carolina. They were all mounted on horse- 
back, with their baggage on pack-horses. In double file, the long 
cavalcade crossed the mountains by an Indian trail, which had 
widened into a road. Each night, they camped in the open air. 
The journey of a few days brought them, without adventure, to 
Jonesborough, where there was a small settlement of about sixty 
log huts. They were now to enter the wilderness, which, for a 
distance of over two hundred miles, was filled with hostile bands 
of s;avages. There they waited several weeks for the arrival of 
other parties of emigrants, and for a guard from Nashville to 
escort them. Nearly one hundred composed the cavalcade, which 
included many women and children. 

One night, after a march of thirty-six hours, with only a halt of 
one short hour, they encamped at a point which_was thought 
to be the most safe in the midst of the most pefilous part of the 



214 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 

journey. The women and children, at an early hour, in utter ex- 
liaustion, had crept into their little tents. The men, with their 
blankets wrapped around them, were sleeping under the shelter 
of logs, with their feet toward the fire. Tiie sentinels, with their 
muskets, were silently and sleepily standing on the watch. An- 
drew Jackson had retired a little apart from the rest, and sitting 
upon the ground, with his back against a tree, was smoking a 
corn-cob pipe. Lost in silent musing, at ten o'clock, just as he 
was beginning to fall asleep, his attention was arrested by the 
various notes ef the owls hooting in the forest around him. Just 
then, he was startled by a louder hoot than usual, very near the 
camp. Instantly suspicion flashed upon his mind. 

Grasping his rifle, and with all his faculties on the alert, he 
crept along to where a friend was sleeping, and startled him with 
the announcement, "There are Indians all around us! I have 
heard them in every direction ! They mean to attack us before 
daybreak ! " 

The experienced woodsmen were aroused. They listened, and 
were fully confirmed in the same suspicion. Silently they broke 
up their camp, and, with the utmost caution, resumed their 
march. An hour after they had left, a party of hunters came, and 
occupied the spot. Before the day dawned, the Indians sprang 
from their ambush upon them, and all but one were killed. An- 
drew Jackson's sagacit}' had saved his party. 

Late in October, 1788, this long train of emigrants reached 
Nashville. They took with them the exciting news that the new 
Constitution had been accepted by a majority of the States, and 
that George Washington would undoubtedly be elected the first 
president. It was estimated that then, in this outpost of civiliza- 
ticn, there were scattered, in log huts clustered along the banks 
of the Cumberland, about five thousand souls. The Indians were 
so active in their hostilities, that it was not safe for any one to live 
far from the stockade. Every man took his rifle with him to the 
field. Children could not go out to gather berries, unless accom- 
panied by a guard. 

Nashville had its aristocracy. Mr?. Donelson belonged to one 
of the first families. She was the widow of Col. John Donelson, 
and lived in a cabin of hewn logs, the most commodious dwelling 
in the place. She had a beautiful, mirth-loving daughter, whu 
had married a very uncongenial Kentuckian, Lewis Eobai ds, of 



ANDREW JACKSON-. 21b 

whom but little that is good can be said. She and her husband 
hved with her widowed mother, and Andrew Jackson was re- 
ceived into the family as a boarder. It was an attractive homa 
rbr him. Of the gay and lively Mrs. Robards it is said, that she 
was then the best storj^'-teller, the best dancer, the spright- 
liest companion, the most dashing horsewoman, in the Western 
country. 

And now Andrew Jackson commenced vigorously the practice 
of law. It was an important part of his business to collect debts. 
It required nerve. Many desperate men carried pistols and 
knives. There were some disputed claims to adjust. A court- 
house in that country, at that time, consisted of a hut of unhewn 
logs, without floor, door, or window. Long journeys through the 
wilderness were necessary to reach the distant cabins where 
the courts were held. During the first seven years of his resi- 
dence in those wilds, he traversed the almost pathless forest 
between Nashville and Jonesborough, a distance of two hundred 
miles, twenty-two times. Hostile Indians were constantly on the 
watch, and a man was liable at any moment to be shot down in 
his own field. Andrew Jackson was just the man for this service, — 
a wild, rough, daring backwoodsman. He sometimes camped in 
the woods for twenty successive nights, not daring to shoot a 
deer, or to kindle a fire, lest he should attract the attention of 
some roving band of savages. 

One night, after dark, he came to a creek, swollen by the rains 
to a roaring torrent. It was pitch-dark, and the rain was falling 
in floods. He could not ford the stream ; he dared not light a 
fire : it was not safe to let his horse move about to browse. He 
took off the saddle, placed it at the foot of a tree, and sat upon it ; 
wrapped his blanket over his shoulders ; held his bridle in one 
hand, and his rifle in the other; and thus, drenched with rain, and 
listening to the wail of the storm and the rush of the torrent, 
waited the dawn. He then mounted his horse, swam the creek, 
and proceeded on his journey. 

" You see how near," Andrew Jackson once said, " I can graze 
danger!" Daily he was making hair-breadth escapes. He seemed 
to bear a charmed life. Boldly, alone or with few companions, ho 
traversed the forests, encountering all perils, and triumphing 
over all. 

Mrs. Robards and her husband lived unhappily together. Ho 



216 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was jealous of her, but, in the judgment of all acquainted with 
the facts, without any cause. Before Mr. Jackson's arrival, he 
had once, from his jealous disposition, separated from her. Andrew 
Jackson was an exceedingly polite, gallant, fascinating man with 
ladies. Capt. Robards became jealous of Jackson, and treated Mrs. 
Robards with great cruelty. Jackson decided, in consequence, 
to leave the house, but determined first to have a little converse 
tion with Mr. Robards. He found the man abusive and unrelent- 
ing; and Mr. Jackson, offering to meet him in a duel if he desired 
it, retired from the family, and took board in another place. Soon 
after this, Mr. and Mrs. Robards separated. The affair caused 
Andrew Jackson great uneasiness ; for though he knew that the 
parties had separated once before, and though conscious of inno- 
cence, he found himself to be the unfortunate cause of the present 
scandal. It was rumored that Capt. Robards, who had gone to 
Kentuck}^ was about to return. A friend of Andrew Jackson, 
subsequently Judge Overton, who was then his intimate compan- 
ion, writes, that, perceiving Mr. Jackson to be much depressed, ho 
inquired the cause. The reply was, — 

" I am the most unhappy of men, in having innocently and un 
intentionally been the cause of the loss of peace and happiness ol 
Mrs. Robards, whom I believe to be a fine woman." 

To escape from the persecutions of her husband, she decided 
to go to Natchez with the family of an elderly gentleman. Col. 
Stark. As there was great danger from the Indians, Col. Stark 
entreated Mr. Jackson to accompany them as a guard. He did so, 
and returned to Nashville. This was in the spring of 1791. 

Capt. Robards applied to the Legislature of Virginia for a bill 
of divorce. It was granted by an act of the Legislature, pro- 
vided that the Supreme Court should adjudge that there was cause 
for such divorce. Robards laid aside this act, and did nothing 
about it for two years. Virginia was far away. The transmission 
of intelligence was very slow. It was announced in Nashville 
that Robards had obtained a divorce. This was universally be- 
lieved. No one doubted it. Mrs. Robards believed it: Andrew 
Jackson believed it. Influenced by this belief, Andrew Jackson 
and Rachel Robards were married in the fall of 1791. No one 
acquainted thoroughly with the parties and the facts doubted of 
the purity of the connection. 

Two years after this, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson learned, to theii 



ANDREW JACKSON: 217 

great surprise, that Robards had just obtained a divorce in one 
of the courts of Kentucky, and that the act of the Virginia Legis- 
lature was not final, but conditional. Thus Mr. Jackson had, in 
reality, been married for two years to another man's wife, though 
neither he nor Mrs. Jackson had been guilty of the slightest 
intentional wrong. To remedy the irregularity as far as possible, 
a new license was obtained, and the marriage ceremony was again 
performed. 

It proved to be a marriage of rare felicity. Probably there 
Dover was a more affectionate union. However rough Mr. Jack- 
son might have been abroad, he was always gentle and tender at 
home ; and, through all the vicissitudes of their lives, he treated 
Mrs. Jackson with the most chivalric attentions. He was always 
very sensitive upon the question of his marriage. No one could 
breathe a word which reflected a suspicion upon the purity of 
this affair but at the risk of pistol-shot instantly through his brain. 

The country was rapidly prospering. The Indians were quelled, 
and thousands of emigrants were pouring into the inviting ter- 
ritory. Mr. Jackson, purchasing large tracts of land, and selling 
lots to settlers, was becoming rich. The following anecdote, which 
he related when President, sheds light upon his own character 
and upon the times. A friend in Washington was expecting to be 
assailed in the streets by a political opponent: — 

"Now," said the general to him, "if any man attacks you, 1 
know how you'll fight him with that big black stick of yours. 
You'll aim right for his head. Well, sir, ten chances to one he 
will ward it off; and, if you do hit him, you won't bring him down. 
No, sir " (taking the stick into his own hands) : " you hold the 
slick so, and punch him in the stomach, and you'll drop him. I'll 
tell you how I found that out. 

" When I was a young man, practising law in Tennessee, there 
was a big, bullying fellow that wanted to pick a quarrel with me, 
and so trod on my toes. Supposing it accidental, I said nothing. 
Soon after, he did it again; and I began to suspect his object. In 
a few minutes he came by a third time, pushing against me 
violently, and evidently meaning fight. He was a man of immense 
size, — one of the very biggest men I ever saw. As quick as a flash, 
I snatched a small rail from the top of the fence, and gave him the 
point of it full in the stomach. Sir, it doubled him up. He fell 
at my feet, and I stamped on him. Soon he got up savage^ and 

28 



218 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was about to fly at me like a tiger. The bystanders made as 
though they would interfere. Says I, * Gentlemen, stand back 
give me room, that's all T ask, and I'll manage him.' With that I 
stood ready, with the rail pointed. He gave me one look, and 
tui'ned away a whipped man, and feeling like one. So, sir, I say 
to you, if any villain assaults you, give him the pint in his belly." 

In these wild regions, and among these rough frontiersmen, 
such pluck gave a man an enviable reputation. Jackson was 
always ready for a fight. An opposing lawyer ridiculed some posi- 
tion he had taken. He tore a blank leaf from a law-book, wrote a 
peremptory challenge, and handed it to his opponent. They met 
that evening in a glen, exchanged shots, which did not hit, shook 
hands, and became friends again. 

Jackson loved cock-fighting. He kept chickens for that purpose. 
When, upon one occasion, one of his chickens, after being struck 
down, revived, and by a lucky stroke killed liis antagonist, Jack- 
son, turning to a companion, exclaimed, delighted, " There is the 
greatest emblem of bravery on earth ! Bonaparte is not braver !" 

In January, 1796, the Territory of Tennessee then containing 
nearly eighty thousand inhabitants, the people met in convention 
at Knoxville to frame a constitution. Five were sent from each 
of the eleven counties. Andrew Jackson was one of the delegates 
from Davidson County. They met in a shabby building in a grove 
outside of the city. It was fitted up for the occasion at an ex- 
pense of twelve dollars and sixty-two cents. The members were 
entitled to two dollars and a half a day. They voted to receive 
but a dollar and a half, that the other dollar might go to the pay- 
ment of secretary, printer, door-keeper, &c. A constitution waa 
formed, which was regarded as very democratic; and in June, 
1796, Tennessee became the sixteenth State in the Union. 

The new State was entitled to but one member in the national 
House of Representatives. Andrew Jackson was chosen that 
member. Mounting his horse, he rode to Philadelphia, where 
Congress then held its sessions, — a distance of eight hundred 
miles. Albert Gallatin thus describes the first appearance of the 
Hon. Andrew Jackson in the House : — 

" A tall, lank, uncouth-looking personage, with locks of hair 
hanging over his face, and a cue down his back, tied with an eel- 
skm, his dress singular, his manners and deportment those of a 
rough backwoodsman." 



ANDREW JACKSON. 210 

Jackson was an earnest advocate of the DBmocratic party. 
Jefferson was his idol. He admired Bonaparte, loved France, and 
hated England. As Mr. Jackson took his seat, Gen. Washington, 
whose second term of service was then expiring, delivered his last 
speech to Congress. A committee drew up a complimentary ad- 
dress in reply. Andrew Jackson did not approve of the address, 
and was one of twelve Avho voted against it. He was not willing 
to say that Gen. Washington's administration had been " wise, 
firm, and patriotic." 

Tennessee had fitted out an expedition against the Indians, 
contrary to the policy of the Government. A resolution was in- 
ti'oduced, that the National Government should pay the expenses. 
Jackson advocated it. It was carried. This rendered Mr. Jack- 
son very popular in Tennessee. A vacancy chanced soon after 
to occur in the Senate, and Andrew Jackson was chosen United- 
States senator by the State of Tennessee. John Adams was then 
President; Thomas Jefferson, Vice-President. 

Many years after this, when Mr. Jefferson had retired from the 
presidential chair, and Andrew Jackson was candidate for the pres- 
idency, Daniel Webster spent some days at the romantic home of 
the sage of Monticello. He represents Mr. Jefferson as saying, — 

" I feel much alarmed at the prospect of seeing Gen. Jackson 
President. He is one of the most unfit men I know of for such a 
place. He has very little respect for law or constitutions ; and 
ib!, in fact, an able military chief. His passions are terrible. 
When I was President of the Senate, he was senator; and he could 
never speak, on account of the rashness of his feelings. I have 
Been him attempt it repeatedly, and as often choke with rage. 
His passions are no doubt cooler now. He has been much tried 
since I knew him ; but he is a dangerous man." 

In 1798, Mr. Jackson returned to Tennessee, and resigned his 
seat in the Senate. Soon after, he was chosen Judge of the Su- 
preme Court of that State, with a salary of six hundred dollars. 
This office he held for six years. It is said that his decisions, 
(hough sometimes ungrammatical, were generally right. 

When Senator Jackson was one of the judges of the Supreme 
Court of Tennessee, John Sevier was Governor of the State. There 
had been some altercation between them ; and Jackson had chal- 
lenged Sevier to a duel, which Sevier had declined. They met 
one day in the streets of Knoxville in a very unfriendly mood. 



220 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

In the conversation which ensued, Judge Jackson alluded to the 
services which he had rendered the State. " Services ! " exclaimed 
the governor : " T know of none, except a trip to Natchez with an- 
other man's wife." — " Great God ! " cried out Judge Jackson, " do 
you mention her sacred name?" He immediately drew a pistol, and 
fired. The governor returned the shot. The bullets whistled through 
the crowded streets of Knoxville. Bystanders separated them. 

Soon after, Judge Jackson, when travehing with a friend, Dr. 
Vandyke, met upon the road Gov. Sevier, with his son. The 
judge immediately drew his pistol, and ordered the governor to 
defend himself. The governor leaped from his horse, and the 
frightened animal ran away. Young Sevier drew upon Jackson; 
Dr. Vandyke drew upon Sevier. Some chance travellers came 
up, and stopped the fray. 

The quarrel between the judge and the governor enlisted par- 
tisans on either side ; and several scenes of claraor and violence 
occurred, which we have not space to record. Judge Jackson 
did not enjoy his seat upon the bench, and renounced the dignity 
in the summer of 1804. About this time, he was chosen major- 
general of militia, and lost the title of judge in that of general. 
When he retired from the Senate Chamber, it seems that he had 
decided to try his fortune through trade. He purchased a stock 
of goods in Philadelphia, sent them to Pittsburg by wagon, down 
the Ohio to Louisville in flat-boats, thence by wagons or pack- 
horses to Nashville, where he opened a store. 

He lived about thirteen miles from Nashville, on a tract of land 
of several thousand acres, mostly uncultivated. He used a small 
block-house for his store, from a narrow window of which he sold 
goods to the Indians. As he had an assistant, his office as judge 
did not materially interfere with this business. The general 
tended store, sent goods, and, it is said, occasionally negroes, 
down the Mississippi. As to slaver}'^, born in the midst of it, the 
idea never seemed to enter his mind that it could be wrong. He 
became eventually an extensive slave-owner ; but he was one of 
the most humane and gentle of masters. At a horse-race, where 
Gen. Jackson brought forward his favorite horse Truxton, and 
where the stakes on either side were two thousand dollars, the 
general became involved in a quarrel with a young man by the 
name of Swann. He refused to accept the challenge of Swann, 
who was a young lawyer just from Virginia, upon the ground that 



ANDREW JACKSON. 221 

he was not a gentleman ; but beat bim with Lis blu Jgeon. It wag 
a very disgraceful quarrel. 

This led to another difficulty, with- Mr. Charles Dickenson, who 
was also a lawyer, and a dealer in country produce. Jackson 
challenged him to a duel, and insisted upon an immediate fight. 
The meeting was appointed at a day's ride from Nashville, at 
seven o'clock in the morning of Friday, May 30, 1806. The par- 
ties were to stand facing each other, twenty-four feet apart, with 
pistols down. At the word " Fire I" they were to discharge their 
pistols as soon as they pleased. 

Dickenson had a young and beautiful wife and an infant chiM, 
and was said to have been a very amiable man. As he stole from 
the side of his wife and child early on Thursday morning, stating 
that he had business which called him to Kentucky, he kissed her, 
saying, '' Good-by, darling! I shall be sure to be at home to- 
morrow night." Meeting a gay party of his friends, they rode off 
in the highest spirits. Dickenson was a sure shot. He could 
strike a dollar with his bullet, and even cut a string, at the dis- 
tance of twenty-four feet. Gen. Jackson and his party followed. 
The two parties spent the night at houses about two miles from 
each other. 

The next morning, they met in a grove. Dickenson got the 
first fire. His aim was unerring; but the ball broke a rib, and 
glanced, leaving a bad but not dangerous wound. Jackson then 
took deliberate aim. Dickenson, appalled by the certain death 
which awaited tiim, recoiled a step or two. " Back to the mark, 
sir ! " shouted Jackson's second. The unhappy man took his stand. 
Again Jackson raised his pistol with calm, determined aim, and 
pulled the trigger. The pistol did not go off. He examined it, 
and found that it had stopped at half-cock. Re-adjusting it, he 
again, unrelentingly, took cool aim, and fired. Dickenson reeled, 
and feU. The ball had passed through his body, just above the 
hips. Jackson and his party retired from the field, leaving the 
dying man in the hands of his friends. All day long he suffered 
agony which extorted shrieks from him, and in the evening died. 
The next day, his frantic wife, hurrying to his relief, met a wagon 
conveying back to Nashville his remains. Dickenson was con- 
vivial in his tastes, a great favorite in Nashville, and his untimely 
death excited profound sympathy. For a time, this affair greatly 
injured Gen. Jackson's popularity. The verdict then was, and 



222 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



continues to be, that Gen. Jackson was outrageously wrong. If he 
subsequently felt any remorse, he never revealed it to any one bui 
lo God. 




THK DUKL. 



Gen. Jackson at this time resided in a very huu ble litmoe cr. 
what was called " The Hermitage Farm." It consisted of one 
room on the lower floor, and two above. There was do ceii/ag. 
A trap-door in the middle of the floor opened into a hole ibr 
storage. There was another smaller cabin near by, connected 
by a covered passage. Gen. Jackson's rustic taste was amply 
satisfied with these accommodations. He desired nothing better. 
Subsequently, when to gratify his wife he built the comfortable 
house called '' The Hermitage," these two buildings were con- 
verted into negro cabins. The genei-al was proverbial for his 
hospitality, and the low as well as the high were equally wel- 
oom.e. Aaron Burr made the general a visit of five days. On 
his return from New Orleans, he made another visit l:o the Heimit* 
age Farm of eight days. He writes, — 

" For a week, I have been lounging at the house of Gen. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 223 

fackson, once a lawyer, afterwards a judge, now a plar ter ; a tua.u 
of intelligence, and one of those frank, ardent souls whom I love 
to meet." 

Gradually Gen. Jackson began to suspect Burr of designs 
of dismembering the Union, and establishing a Southern empire, 
of which New Orleans was to be the capital, and Aaron Burr tho 
sovereign. He communicated his suspicions to the Govornmout, 
and offered his services. Subsequently he formed the opiniou 
that Bun- was innocent of any traitorous designs, and earnestly 
defended him. and became alienated from Jefferson and his ad' 
ministration. Gen. Jackson now withdrew from commercial 
pursuits, v/hich he had not found very profitable, and devoted 
himself to the culture of his plantation. His home was a very 
happy one. Mrs. Jackson was an excellent manager, and one 
of the most cheerful and entertaining of companions. She had 
a strong mind, much intelligence, but very little culture. They 
had no cliildren, but adopted one of the twin sons, but a [aw 
da>'s old, of one of Mrs. Jackson's sisters. This boy became the 
pride, the joy, the hope, of the general's life. Soon after, he re- 
ceived another little nephew into his family, whom he nurtured 
and educated. It is said (and the assertion is well substantiated) 
that this wonderfully irascible man was never impatient even 
with wife, children, or servants. 

One day, when travelling alone, he met two burly wagoners, 
who ordered him to get out of his carriage, and dance for them. 
Feigning simplicity, he said that he could not dance without his 
slippers, which were in his trunk. They told him to get them. 
Opening his trunk, he took out his pistols; and then, with eyes 
glaring like fireballs, and with such oaths as few men ever heard 
before, approached them, saying, — 

" Now, you infernal villains, you shall dance forme! Dan(o, 
dance ! " There was death in his eye and in his tone. They 
danced until the general was satisfied, and he then dismissed them 
with a moral lecture which they probably never forgot. 

When the war of 1812 with Great Britain commenced, Madison 
occupied the presidential chair. Aaron Burr sent word to the 
President that there was an unknown man in the West, Andrew 
Jackson, Mdio would do credit to a commission if one were con- 
ferred upon him. Just at that time, Gen. Jackson offered his 
services and those of twenty-five hundred volunteers. His offer 
was accepted, and the troops were assembled at Nashville- 



224 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

As the British were hourly expected to make an attack upon New 
Orleans, where Gen. Wilkinson was in command, he was ordered 
to descend the river with fifteen hundred troops to the aid of 
Wilkinson. As Gen. Jackson hated the commandant at New 
Orleans, and expected a " diflScultj," he took with him his duel- 
ling pistols and powder. 

The expedition reached Natchez ; and after a delay of several 
weeks there, without accomplishing any thing, the men were 
ordered back to their homes. But the energy Gen. Jackson had 
displayed, and his entire devotion to the comfort of his soldiers, 
won him golden opinions ; and he became the most popular man 
in the State. It was in this expedition that his toughness gave 
him the nickname of " Old Hickory." 

A young friend of Gen. Jackson, by the name of William 
Carroll, challenged Jesse Benton, a younger brother of Col. 
Thomas H. Benton, to a duel. Andrew Jackson, then forty-six 
years of age, somewhat reluctantly acted as second to Carroll. 
Both parties were wounded, young Benton quite severely. This 
roused the indignation of Col. Thomas H. Benton, who had con- 
ferred some signal favors upon Gen. Jackson ; and, in his rage, he 
made such remarks as passionate men were accustomed to 
make in those days and in that region. The general, hearing 
of these remarks, swore " by the Eternal " that he would horsewhip 
Benton. Learning that Benton was in Nashville, he rode into 
the city, and with pistols in his pocket, a small sword at his side, 
and a whip in his hand, went to the City Hotel, accompanied by 
a friend. Col. Benton was at the front-door, with his brother 
Jesse near. Jackson advanced upon him with his whip, exclaim- 
ing, — 

" Now, you d d rascal, I am going to punish you ! Defend 

yourself 1 " 

Benton clapped his hand into his breast-pocket as if feeling 
for a pistol. Jackson instantly drew a pistol, and presented it at 
the breast of his antagonist. Benton stepped back through the 
hall towards the door at the other end, Jackson following closely. 
Jesse Benton, seeing his brother's peril, fired at Jackson. The 
pistol was loaded with two balls and a slug. The slug struck his 
left shoulder, shattering it horribly. The ball buried itself in his 
arm, where it remained for twenty years. Jackson fell heavily 
and helplessly to the floor, bleeding profusely. His friend, Col. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 225 

Coffee, rushed upon Col. Benton, fired his pistol, and missed. He 
then clubbed his pistol, and was just about to strike the colonel 
over the head, when Benton tripped, and fell back over some 
stairs behind him which he had not observed, and rolled to the 
bottom. Coffee now turned his attention to his wounded friend. 
But another actor immediately appeared. Stokely Hays, a nephew 
of Gen. Jackson, and a man of gigantic strength and stature, 
rushed upon Jesse Benton. With gleaming knives, they had a 
rough-and-tumble fight. Blood flowed freely. Bystanders int -.r- 
fered, and separated them. 

Faint with loss of blood, Jackson was carried to the Nashville 
Inn, a short distance ; and the Bentons remained in possession of 
the field. Jackson's wounds were very severe. While he was 
lingering, haggard and wan, upon a bed of suffering, news came 
that the Indians, who had combined under Tecumseh, from Florida 
to the Lakes, to exterminate the white settlers, were committing the 
most awful ravages. Decisive action became necessary. Gen. 
Jackson, with his fractured bones just beginning to heal, his arm 
in a sling, and unable to mount his horse without assistance, gave 
his amazing energies to the raising of an army to rendezvous at 
Fayetteville, on the borders of Alabama, on the 4th of October, 
1818. 

The varied incidents of the war which ensued cannof i.ere bo 
described. On the bloody field of Talluschatches, where the whole 
of a band of one hundred and eighty Indian warriors met with 
their death, an Indian babe was found clinging to the bosom 
of its dead mother. Jackson urged some of the Indian women, 
who were captives, to give it nourishment. They refused, saying, 
" All his relations are dead : kill him too." The general took the 
child to his own tent, nursed it with sugar and water, sent it to 
the Hermitage, and brought the child up as a son, giving him the 
name of Lincoyer. He grew up a finely formed young man, but 
died of consumption at the age of seventeen. 

A narrative of the heroism of the troops, their sufferings and 
their achievements, would fill pages. On one occasion, a starving 
soldier approached the general, begging for food. " I will divido 
with you my own food," said he, and, drawing a few acorns from 
his pocket, presented them to the man, saying, *' This is all the faro 
I have." Mutinies arose in the camp, one after another, which 
Iren. Jackson, almost by his own single energies, vanquished. 

29 



226 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

The discouragement and embarrassments he encountered wei«i 
terrible. In the severe chastisement of the Indians at Talladega ; 
in the struggle with his own starving troops at Fort Strother ; in 
his twelve-days' excursion, culminating in the routing of the 
Indians at Enotochopco, — there was as high a display of energy 
and sagacity as has, perhaps, ever been recorded. 

The Indians were numerous and desperate. The battles were 
fierce and bloody. The settlers in that remote wilderness were 
entirely dependent upon their crops for the support of their families. 
Absence in seedtime or harvest exposed wives and children to 
starvation. It was exceedingly difficult to hire men even for six 
months' military service. Two hundred young men volunteered 
for a three-months' campaign. The contract was written and signed. 
Gen. Roberts had enlisted these men. He marched them to within 
a short distance of Fort Strother, and then halted them, and rode 
forward to get a promise from Gen. Jackson to receive them for 
the short service for which they had enlisted. 

The wrath of the general was roused. He would not hea-r of 
their serving for less than six months. The men heard of it, and 
immediately started for their homes. Awful were the oaths of the 
enraged general. Every available man was sent after them to arrest 
them as deserters. He needed the men so much, that, while he swore 
that he would shoot them as deserters if they did not return, he 
assured them that they should be pardoned, and received into 
service on the terms upon which they had enlisted, if they would 
come back. 

Thus assured, they again rendezvoused at Fayetteville. Here 
a man who was anxious to retire engaged another young man, 
not quite eighteen years of age, John Wood, to serve as his sub- 
stitute. John the more readily assented to this as he had an 
elder brother in the company. They were now marched to Fort 
Strother. 

A few days after this, on a cold, rainy morning in February, 
John Wood was on guard. Wet, chilled, and hungr}'-, he obtained 
permission to go to his tent to get a blanket. His comrades had 
left his breakfast for him ; and, while he was hastily eating it, an 
officer came along, and reproved him sharply for the bones and 
other litter which were strewn about. John went on eating. The 
officer, in the cairse, insulting language of the camp, ordered him 
to pick up the bones. John replied, probably not very respect 



ANDREW JACKSON. 227 

fully, that he was on guard, and had permission to leave his post 
but for a few moments, to which he must immediately return. A 
loud altercation ensued. The officer ordered the bystanders to 
arrest Wood. He seized his gun, and swore that he would shoot 
the first man who should attempt to touch him. 

Gen. Jackson heard that a man was mutinying, and came rush- 
ing from his tent like an enraged maniac. Wood was put in 
irons. Gen. Jackson was about to start upon a very important 
entarprise. There was but little subordination in the army. He 
thought it time to make an example. He had been struggling 
against mutiny for three months, and his patience was exhausted. 
John, sitting upon a log in the forest, a mere boy, knowing nothing 
of military life, having been but a month in service, was con- 
demned to die. Gen. Jackson was urged to pardon him, or, at 
least, to mitigate the sentence, in consideration of his youth, and 
of his aged parents, of whom he was the main-stay. The general 
replied, that he was sorry for his parents ; but the boy was a muti- 
neer, and must die. 

The whole army was drawn up to witness the execution. A 
general order was read, in which it was asserted that Wood had 
been a deserter as well as a mutineer. A deserter he certainly 
was not; for he did not join the company until after the flight, and 
its rendezvous at Fayetteville. No one has ever read this story 
without a deep feeling of sympathy for John Wood. 

The Creek Indians had established a strong fort on one of the 
bends of the Tallapoosa River, near the centre of Alabama, about 
fifty miles below Fort Strother. With an army of two thousand 
men, Gen. Jackson traversed the pathless wilderness in a march 
of eleven days. He reached their fort, called Tohopeka, or Horse- 
shoe, on the 27th of March, 1814. The bend of the river enclosed 
nearly one hundred acres of tangled forest and wild ravine. 
Across the narrow neck, the Indians had constructed a for- 
midable breastwork of logs and brush. Here nine hundred war- 
liors, with an ample supply of arms and ammunition, were 
assembled. 

The fort was stormed. The fight was utterly desperate. Not 
an Indian would accept of quarter. When bleeding and dying, 
they would fight those who endeavored to spare their lives. 
From ten in the morning until dark, the battle raged. The car- 
nage was awful and revolting. Some threw themselves into the 



228 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

river ; but the unerring bullet struck their heads as they swam 
Nearly every one of the nine hundred warriors was killed. A 
few probably, in the night, swara the river, and escaped. This 
ended the war. The power of the Creeks was broken forever. 
This bold plunge into the wilderness, with its terrific slaughter, 
so appalled the savages, tnat the haggard remnants of the bands 
came to the camp, begging for peace. 

Gen. Jackson returned a conqueror. No one but those who 
know from experience what are the horrors of Indian warfare — 
the midnight yell of the savage, the torch, the tomahawk, the 
carnage, the torture — can appreciate the gratitude with which 
this deliverer of the frontiers was received as he journeyed 
homewards. A cavalcade of the citizens of Nashville flocked to 
meet him. With loudest acclaim, they conducted him to the 
court-house. All past enmities were forgotten, and every tongue 
spoke his praise. 

This closing of the Creek War enabled us to concentrate our 
militia upon the British, who were the allies of the Indians. No 
man of less resolute will than Gen. Jackson could have conducted 
this Indian campaign to so successful an issue. Immediately, on 
the 31st of May, Jackson was appointed major-general in the 
army of the United States. This gave him an income of between 
six and seven thousand dollars a year, and made him, for those 
times, a rich man. Through the whole Indian campaign, he suf- 
fered terribly from the wounds and debility occasioned by his 
senseless feud with Col. Benton. He was pale and haggard and 
pain-worn, often enduring the extreme of agony. Not many men, 
suffering as he did, would have been out of the sick-chamber. 
As one of the results of the Creek War, the Creeks were com- 
pelled to cede to the United-States Government nearly the whole 
of the territory now embraced in the State of Alabama. 

Napoleon had now fallen; the Bourbons were restored ; and the 
English, flushed with victory, with a splendid army, and a still 
more splendid navy of more than a thousand vessels, were free to 
concentrate all their energies against this infant republic. The 
Federalists were glad that Napoleon was overthrown ; the Repub- 
licans generally mourned. Andrew Jackson was a Republican, 
and a great admirer of Napoleon. 

Immediately upon the fall of Napoleon, the British cabinet de- 
cided to gather up its strength to strike America a crushing 



ANDREW JACKSON. 229 

blow. It was their plan to take New Orleans, lay all our seaport 
towns in ashes, annihilate our navy, and, by holding the Atlantic, 
rhe Mississippi, and the Lakes, to imprison us in our forests. The 
British were at Pensacola and Appalachicola, dispensing arms to 
the Indians in that region, and preparing for their grand naval 
and land expedition to New Orleans. Florida then belonged to 
Spain, an ally of England; and the British cabinet doubted not its 
ability to wrest from us Louisiana, which we had purchased of 
France. Most of the hostile Indians, flying from the tremendous 
blows which Gen. Jackson had dealt out to them, had also taken 
refuge in Florida. Jackson, far away in the wilderness, was left 
to a^^t almost without instructions. He decided to take the 
responsibility, and assumed the independence of a sovereign. 

Late in August, with an army of two thousand men, on a rush- 
ing march, Gen. Jackson traversed the wilderness from which he 
had driven out the Creeks, and reached Mobile, then an insignifi- 
cant hamlet of one hundred and fifty houses, and took possession 
of a dilapidated rampart, called Fort Bowyer, at Mobile Point. A 
British fleet came from Pensacola, landed a force upon the beach, 
anchored near the little fort, and from both ship and shore com- 
menced a furious assault. The battle was long and doubtful. At 
length, one of the ships was blown up, and the rest of the force 
retir-^d in utter discomfiture. 

Tlie whole South and West were fully aroused to meet and 
repel the foe. By the 1st of November, Gen. Jackson had in 
Mobile an army of four thousand men. His wrath against the 
Spaniards had no limits ; and he resolved to march upon Pensa- 
cola, where the Spaniards were sheltering our foes, and, as he 
expressed it, " rout out the English." Regardless of the rights 
of Spain, he advanced upon Pensacola, stormed the town, took 
possession of every fort, and drove the British fleet out to sea. 
But where had the fleet gone? This question Gen. Jackson 
asked with great anxiety. Fearing for Mobile, he put his force 
in rapid motion to return. On the 3d of November, he left Mo- 
bile, and on the 11th got back again, having marched nearly two 
hundred miles, and achieved a great victory. Many, at that 
time, condemned him for the invasion of Florida ; but the final 
verdict has been clearly in his favor. 

Garrisoning Mobile, he moved his troops to New Orleans, a dis- 
tance of a hundred and seventy miles. Gen. Jackson himself 



230 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was 80 feeble, that he could ride but seventeen miles a day. He 
reached New Orleans the 1st of December. New Orleans con- 
tained then twenty thousand inhabitants. There was plunder 
enough of cotton and sugar stored in the city to make the expe- 
dition of the British, if successful, very profitable. The following 
description has been given of Gen. Jackson, as, accompanied by 
his staflf alone, he entered the city : — 

" The chief of the party, which was composed of five or six 
persons, was a tall, gaunt man, of very erect carriage, with a 
countenance full of stern decision and fearless energy, but fur- 
rowed with care and anxiety. His complexion was sallow and 
unhealthy, his hair was iron gray, and his body thin and ema- 
ciated, Hke that of one who had just recovered from a lingering 
and painful sickness. But the fierce glare of his bright and 
hawk-like eye betrayed a soul and spirit which triumphed over 
all the infirmities of the body. His dress was simple, and nearly 
threadbare. A small leather cap protected his head, and a short 
Spanish blue cloak his body ; whilst his feet and legs were in- 
cased in high dragoon-boots, long ignorant of polish or blacking, 
which reached to the knees. In age, he appeared to have passed 
about forty-five winters." 

In some mysterious way. Gen. Jackson had acquired the man- 
ners of the most polished and accomplished gentleman. There 
was something in his presence which charmed every one, in the 
saloon as well as in the camp. Always self-possessed, there were 
dignity and courtliness, united with affability, in his address, 
which would have rendered him conspicuous as a gentleman, even 
in the court of Louis XIV. 

Every available man in New Orleans was immediately brought 
into service. The battle of New Orleans, which soon ensued, was, 
in reality, a very arduous cam.paign. A British fleet of fifty ships, 
many of them of the first class, and which had obtained renown 
in the naval conflicts of Trafalgar and the Nile, was assembled in 
a spacious bay on the western end of the Island of Jamaica. 
This fleet, which carried a thousand cannon, was manned by nearly 
nine thousand soldiers and marines, and transported a land force 
of ten thousand veteran soldiers, "fresh from the wars of Europe, 
and flushed with victory over Napoleon. The fleet entered Lake 
Borgne. It was the 10th of December, 1814. There were five 
umall cutters in the lake, which were soon overpowered by the 



ANDREW JACKSON. 231 

immense force of the foe. The fleet now ran along to the western 
extremity of the lake, and landed the troops at the mouth of the 
Bayou Bienvenue. The shallow water would not allow the large 
ships to approach near the land ; but sixteen hundred troops were 
speedily put on shore by the boats but eight miles from New 
Orleans. Unaware how feeble the force Gen. Jackson had at his 
disposal, they did not deem it prudent to move upon the city 
until they had greatly increased their numbers. This delay 
probably saved New Orleans. 

The British troops commenced landing on the 16th. The pro- 
cess was very slow and tedious ; and it was not until the 22d that 
they were prepared to move forward. Thus far, it had been 
uncertain by what direction they would advance upon the city. 
As soon as Gen. Jackson heard of their line of approach, he ad- 
vanced to meet them. He had placed the city under martial law. 
Every available man, horse, mule, ox, had been called into requi- 
sition. Two armed schooners were stationed in the river. Fort 
St. Philip was strengthened, to prevent the British fleet, which 
was impelled by wind alone, from ascending the river. 

At two o'clock in the afternoon of the 23d, Gen. Jackson 
learned that the foe, marching from Lake Borgne, were within 
nine miles of the city. He immediately collected his motley force 
of young farmers and mechanics, about two thousand in number, 
and marched to meet them. He fell upon them impetuously in a 
night attack, checked their progress, and drove them bac-k 
towards their landing-place. The British, surprised by the fury 
of the assault, waited for re-enforcements, which came up in large 
numbers during the night. 

In the mean time. Gen. Jackson, with that indomitable energy, 
that fiery impetuosity, in which he surpassed all living men, fell 
back with his men to a point about four miles down the river from 
New Orleans, and commenced cutting a ditch, and throwing up a 
line of breastworks from the river across the plain, which was 
about a mile in width, to the impassable swamp. Every man and 
boy in the city was put to the work. The general was every- 
where. His zeal inspired all. He seemed neither to eat nor 
sleep. It is said, that, for five days and four nights, he was with- 
out sleep. Two precious days the British allowed him, while they 
were laboriously bringing up their re-enforcements of men, ammu' 
nition, provisions, and guns. 



232 LIVES i)F THE PRESIDENTS. 

Gen. Jackson had two sloops of war in the river, which annoyed 
the foe terribly. It is but a narrow strip of land which lines the 
turbid Mississippi. It was only along this strip that the foe could 
advance. They were on the eastern banks, and were exposed 
unsheltered to the fire of these vessels. The levee, rising some 
fifteen feet from the plain, alone prevented the inundation of the 
ground where the British forces were collecting. On their right, 
as they looked up the stream, the swamp shut them in ; while the 
swift, turbid, deep river was on their left. On the 2oth, Sir E. 
Packenham reached the British camp, bringing with him a power- 
ful battery. He planted it near the levee in the night, opened 
fire in the morning, blew one of the vessels into the air, and drove 
the other out of range of his guns. He was the nephew of the 
Duke of Wellington. But Andrew Jackson was in spirit the duke 
himself, expanded and intensified. 

Packenham, on the 28th, pushed his veteran battalions forward 
on a reconnoissance, and to sweep, if possible, like a Mississippi 
flood, over Gen. Jackson's frail and unfinished breastwork. In 
the construction of his ditch and earthworks, he could scoop up 
the earth only to the depth of three feet before he came to the 
water. It was a brilliant morning, the 28th of December. Jackson, 
with an old borrowed telescope in his hand, was on the watch. 
The solid columns of red-coats came on, in military array as beau- 
tiful as awe-inspiring. The artillery led, heralding the advance 
with a shower of Congreve-rockets, round shot, and shell. 
The muskets of the infantry flashed like mirrors in the light of 
the morning sun. The Britons were in high glee. It was absurd 
to suppose that a few thousand raw militia could resist the vete- 
rans who had conquered the armies of Napoleon, 

Gen. Jackson had not quite three thousand men behind his 
breastwork; but every one had imbibed the spirit of his chieftain. 
There were eight thousand veteran soldiers marching upon them. 
For a few hours, there were the tumult, the horror, the carnage, of 
a battle ; and then the British host seemed to have melted away. 
Panting, bleeding, with shattered ranks, leaving their dead behind 
them, again they retreated. 

Another week passed away. Both parties exerted almost super- 
human energy in preparing for the renewal of the strife. Gen. 
Jackson had made his arrangements, if defeated, to retire to the 
city, fire it, and, amidst its flames, to fight with desperation ; slowly 



ANDREW JACKSON. 23b 

falling back to some strong position on the river-banks, and, bv 
cutting off the supplies of the foe, compel him to depart. 

The British now decided to advance upon the American lines 
by regular approaches. For three days, they remained in their 
encampment two miles below our breastworks, but in open view. 
They brought from their ships heavy cannon, and other needful 
supplies. Thus passed the three last days of the year. The banks 
of the river were lined with sentinels, and watch-boats patroled 
tlie majestic stream. The British had brought forward twenty 
eighteen-pounders, and ten twenty-fours. 

The night of the 31st of December was very dark. In its gloom, 
one-half of the British army advanced within three hundred yards 
of our front, and, under cover of a heavy cannonade on their right, 
<!ommenced throwing up a chain of works. The next morning 
was Sunday, the first day of the new year. It dawned through a 
tog so dense, that no man could be seen at a distance of twenty 
yards. Suddenly at ten o'clock, like the uprolling of a curtain at a 
theatre, the fog lifted ; and the whole plain, glittering with all 
the pageantry of war, was open to view. Instantly the British 
batteries commenced their fire upon the American lines. 

Within ten minutes, one hundred balls struck the house which 
G-en. Jackson had occupied as his headquarters. The reply from 
the American lines was prompt, and such a storm of war was opened 
as never before had been witnessed upon this continent. Fifty 
pieces of cannon were discharged, each from two to three times a 
minute ; and, as there was not a breath of air, the plain was soon 
so covered with smoke, that nothing could be seen but an im- 
penetrable cloud, blazing and bellowing with volcanic flash and 
roar. After an hour and a half of such work, the guns became so 
hot, that they could no longer be loaded. 

As the smoke rolled away, the British batteries were seen total- 
ly destroyed: the soldiers who had manned them were running 
to the rear ; and the British army, which had been drawn up to 
advance upon our works, were hiding behind the ramparts which 
they had thrown up. Again the British were defeated. Annoyed 
by the terrible fire which was opened upon them by our artillerists 
and sharpshooters, they were compelled to fall back to their former 
position. This was the third battle, not including the gunboat 
fight, of the campaign. It was on this occasion only that cotton- 
bales were used. They were found valueless, and were thrown 

30 



234 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

aside, as the cannon-balls knocked them about, or set them on 
fire. 

What the enemy would next attempt was now the great ques- 
tion. Four days passed away with no decisive movements on 
either side. The British were, however, evidently preparing for 
another advance. No words can describe the efforts made by our 
army to prepare for the next movement of the foe, whatever it 
might be. On Friday, the 6th, Gen. Jackson became assured that 
the enemy was preparing to attack him on both sides of the river. 

We cannot here describe the preparations made for the attack 
and for the repulse. At half an hour before dawn, Sunday morning, 
Jan. 8, 1815, a rocket from the hostile lines gave the signal 
for the attack. In two solid columns, the British advanced upon 
our ramparts, which were bristling with infantry and artillery, and 
behind which Gen. Jackson had now collected an army of about 
four thousand men, all inspired with the zeal of their commander. 
On both sides of the river, the blood-red billows of battle rolled 
and broke. 

Our men were well protected. With bare bosoms, the British 
marched upon the embankment, from which there was poured 
forth an incessant storm of bullets, balls, and shells, which no flesh 
and blood could stand. It was one of the most awful scenes of 
slaughter which was ever witnessed. Every bullet accomplished 
its mission, spending its force in the bodies of those who were in- 
sanely driven forward to inevitable death. Two hundred men 
were cut down by one discharge of a thirty-two-pounder, loaded 
to the muzzle with musket-balls, and poured into the head of a 
column at the distance of but a few yards. Regiments vanished, 
a British officer said, "as if the earth had opened, and swallowed 
them up." The American line looked like a row of fiery furnaces. 
Gen. Jackson walked slowly along his ranks, cheering his men, and 
saying,— 

" Stand to your guns ! Don't waste your ammunition ! See that 
every shot tells I Let us finish the business to-day ! " 

Two hours passed, and the work was done, — efiectually done. 
As the smoke lifted, the whole proud array had disappeared. The 
ground was so covered with the dying and the dead, that, for a 
quarter of a mile in front, one might walk upon their bodies ; and, 
far away in the distance, the retreating lines of the foe were to be 
seen. On both sides of the river, the enemy was repulsed. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 235 

The British had about nine thousand in the engagement, and 
we but about four thousand. Their loss in killed and wounded 
was two thousand six hundred, while ours was but thirteen. 
Thus ended the great battle of New Orleans. For ten days after 
the battle, the British remained in their encampment, continually 
annoyed by our artillerists and sharpshooters, until at length, 
through great difficulties, they effected their escape to their ships. 

In those days, intelligence travelled so slowly, that it was not 
until tho 4th of February that tidings of the victory reached 
Washington. The whole country blazed with illuminations, and 
rang with rejoicings. Ten days after this, news of the Treaty of 
Ghent was received, which treaty had bee a signed before the 
bloody battle of New Orleans took place. Gen. Jackson was not 
a man of tender sympathies. Inexorable in discipline, soon aftei 
this, on the 21st, at Mobile, he ordered six militia-men to be 
shot for mutiny. It is a sad story. They were honest, well-mean 
ing men, who probably had no intention of doing wrong. Some of 
them were true Christians, and they supposed that their term of 
service had really expired. No one can read the story of their 
death, without anguish ; and it required all the glory of the victory 
at New Orleans to obliterate the memory of the execution at 
Mobile. 

Rumors of the Treaty of Ghent reached New Orleans in March, 
and were published by one of the New-Orleans editors. Gen. Jax^k- 
sou, deeming such an announcement injudicious, ordered the editox* 
to retract. He refused, and was arrested. Judge Hall, to vindi- 
cate the supremacy of the civil authority, issued a writ of habeas 
corpus. The general arrested the judge, and sent him out of his 
lines. Soon intelligence of peace was received. The judge re- 
turned, and, by virtue of his office, fined the general a thousand 
dollars. The people of New Orleans, adoring their deliverer, 
were indignant, and wished to pay the fine for him. The general 
refused their offer, and paid it himself. 

He now returned to Nashville, and honors were poured in upon 
him without number. He still retained his command of the south- 
ern division of the army. The Seminole Indians in Florida were 
committing outrages upon our frontiers. Gen. Jackson gathered 
an army of over two thousand men, and, regardless of treaties, 
marched into Flor'da, punished the Indians severely, attacked a 
Spanish post, shot by court-martial a Scotchman, and hung an 



236 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Englishman accused of inciting the Indians to insurrection. His 
energy, and disregard of treaties and the forms of law, were de- 
nounced by one party, and commended by another. He was, how- 
ever, sustained by Congress and the President; and, after the pur- 
chase of Florida from Spain, Gen. Jackson was appointed governor 
of the newly acquired territory. The powers with which he was 
invested were so great, that he said, upon assuming the com- 
mand, — 

" I am clothed with powers that no one under a republic ought 
to possess, and which, I trust, will never again be given to any 
man." 

For some reason, he soon became tired of his office, and, resigning 
it, again retired to his farm and his extremely humble home in Ten- 
nessee. His name soon began to be brought forward as that of a can- 
didate for the presidency of the United States. In the autumn of 
1823, he was elected, by the Tennessee Legislature, United-States 
senator. In the stormy electoral canvass of 1824, which resulted in 
the choice of John Quincy Adams by the House of Representatives, 
Gen. Jackson received a larger number of electoral votes than 
either of his competitors. The Democratic party now with great 
unanimity fixed upon him to succeed Mr. Adams. In the campaign 
of 1828, he was triumphantly elected President of the United States. 
In 1829, just before he assumed the reins of government, he met 
with the most terrible afiliction of his life in the death of his wife, 
whom he had loved with devotion which has perhaps never been 
surpassed. From the shock of her death he never recovered. 

He ever afterwards appeared like a changed man. He became 
Bubdued in spirit, and, except when his terrible temper had been 
greatly aroused, seldom used profane language. It is said that 
every night afterwards, until his own death, he read a prayer from 
his wife's prayer-book, with her miniature likeness before him. With 
frankness characteristic of his nature, he expressed his deep con- 
viction of the necessity of vital godliness, and his hope and inten- 
tion to become a Christian before he should die. 

His administration was one of the most memorable in the annals 
of our country ; applauded by one party, condemned by the other. 
No man had more bitter enemies or warmer friends. It is, how- 
ever, undeniable, that many of the acts of his administration, which 
were at the time most unsparingly denounced, are now generally 
commended. Every year the judgment of the whole community 



ANDREW JACKSON. 237 

is settling into the conviction, that, with all his glaring faults of 
character, he was a true patriot, honestly seeking the good of his 
country. With the masses of the people, Andrew Jackson was the 
most popular president, with possibly the exceptions of Washington 
and Lincoln, who ever occupied the presidential chair. At the 
expiration of his two terms of office, )\e retired, in 1837, to the 
Hermitage, resigning his office at Washington to his warm friend 
anrl able supporter, Martin Van Buren. 

The remains of his much-loved wife were reposing in the hum- 
ble graveyard near his house. The evening of his stormy life had 
come. Hours of reflection were forced upon him. The sublimities 
of the world beyond the grave had ever overawed his soul. There 
was a series of rehgious meetings of several days' continuance. 
Gen. Jackson devoutlv- attended them all. The last sermon was 
on Saturday afternoon, upon God's interposition among the affairs 
of men. Gen. Jackson went home, intensely impressed with a 
sense of ingratitude and sin. He passed the night walking the 
floor of his chamber in anguish and in prayer. In the morning, he 
announced to his family his full conviction that he had repented 
of his sins, and, through faith in Christ, had obtained forgiveness. 
That day the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was to be adminis- 
tered. With his customary decision of character, he sent for the 
elders of the church, informed them of the new life upon which he 
believed he had entered, and expressed the desire that very day 
to make a profession of his faith in Christ, and to partake of the 
emblems of his body broken for us, and his blood shed for our ssins. 
It was a solemn scene which was that morning witnessed in that 
rural church, almost buried in the forests of Tennessee. The war- 
worn veteran, with bronzed face and frosted hair, knelt with tho 
humility of a little child before the altar, in acceptance of pardon 
through an atoning Saviour, and was baptized in the name of 
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. The prayers 
of his Christian mother were now answered. 

His subsequent life was that of the Christian who is conscious 
that his sins are forgiven, but who is conscious, also, that he has 
yet many remaining infirmities. Family prayer was immediately 
established in his dwelling, which Gen. Jackson himself conducted, 
however numerous might be his guests. Scott's Family Bible he 
read through twice before he died. The household servants were 
all called in to partake in the devotions. At one of the meetings 
of the church. Gen. Jackson was nominated a " ruling elder." 



238 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" No," he replied. " The Bible says, ' Be not hasty in the laying 
on of hands.' I am too young in the church for such an office. 
My countrymen have given me high honors ; but I should esteem 
the office of ruling elder in the Church of Christ a far higher honor 
than any I have received." 

His sufferings frgm sickness during the last years of his life 
were dreadful ; but he bore them with the greatest fortitude, never 
uttering a complaining word. Still, at times, the gleams of his 
impetuous soul would flash forth. " What would you have done 
with Calhoun and the other nullifiers, if they had kept on ? " asked 
Dr. Edgar one day. 

The old general half rose from his bed, and with flashing eye, 
and great vehemence of manner, said, " I would have hung them, 
sir, as high as Haman. They should have been a terror to traitors 
for all time ; and posterity would have pronounced it the best act 
of my life." 

On Sunday, May 24, 1845, he partook of the communion. 
" Death," said he, " has no terrors for me. When I have suffered 
sufficiently, the Lord will take me to himself; but what are my 
sufferings compared with those of the blessed Saviour who died on 
the accursed tree for me? Mine are nothing." 

Still he lingered in the extreme of weakness and of suffer- 
ing. On Sunday morning, June the 8th, it was seen that his last 
hour had come. He assembled all his family around him, and, in 
the most affecting manner, took leave of each one. " He then," 
writes, one who was present, " delivered one of the most impres- 
sive lectures on the subject of religion that I have ever heard. 
He spoke for nearly half an hour, and apparently with the power 
of inspiration." The servants had all been called in. In conclu- 
sion, he said, " My dear children and friends and servants, I hope 
and trust to meet you all in heaven, both white and black." The 
last words he repeated, turning his eyes tenderly towards the 
slaves clustered around. For some time, he remained apparently 
in a state of stupor. At length, his adopted son took his hand, 
and said, " Father, do you know me ? " 

" Yes," he replied, " I know you. Where is my daughter, and 
Marian? God will take care of you for me. I am my God's. I 
belong to him. I go but a short time before you ; and I want to 
meet you all, white and black, in heaven." 

The slaves, men, women, and children, who crowded the piazza, 



ANDREW JACKSON. 239 

looking in at the windows, sobbed loudly. Turning to them, their 
dying master said, — 

" What is the matter with my dear children ? Have I alarmed 
you ? Oh ! do not cry, and we will all meet in heaven." 

Soon after this, he suddenly, and without a struggle, ceased to 
breathe. Two days after, he was placed in a grave by the side 
of his wife. He had often said, " Heaven will be no heaven to 
me if I do not meet my wife there." For miles around, the people 
docked to the burial. It was estimated that three thousand were 
assembled upon the lawn in front of the house. A favorite psalm 
of the departed was sung, — 

" Why sbould we start, and fear to die ? 
What timorous worms we mortals are I " 

A sermon was preached from the text, " These are they which 
came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and 
made them white in the blood of the Lamb." 

The brief sketch which we have given of this remarkable man 
must leave the impression upon every mind that he possessed 
great virtues and great defects. He was the first president 
America had chosen who was not a man of intelligence, of culture, 
and of experienced statesmanship. Though intense in his preju- 
dices, and slow to listen to the voice of reason, and though many 
of his actions were fearfully unjust, few will now deny that he 
was honest in his purposes, and sincerely patriotic. 

Mr. Parton, in his admirable Life of Jackson, says very truly, 
"His ignorance of law, history, politics, science, — of every thing 
which he who governs a country ought to know, — was extreme. 
Mr. Trist remembers hearing a member of the general's family 
say that Gen. Jackson did not believe the world was round. 
His ignorance was as a wall round about him, high and impene- 
trable. He was imprisoned in his ignorance, and sometimes raged 
around his little dim enclosure like a tiger in his den." It is said, 
that, when he was elected President of the United States, he had 
never read a book through except " The Vicar of Wakefield." The 
honorary degree of LL.D. was conferred upon him in 1833 by 
Harvard University. 

Chief Justice Taney, at the time of his death, paid the following 
beautiful tribute to his memory : — 



240 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" The whole civilized world already knows how bountifully he 
was endowed by Providence with those high gifts which qualified 
him to lead, both as a soldier and as a statesman. But those only 
who were around him in hours of anxious deliberation, when great 
and mighty interests were at stake, and who were also with him 
in the retired scenes of domestic life, in the midst of his family 
and friends, can fully appreciate his innate love of justice, his 
hatred of oppression in every shape it could assume, his magna- 
nimity, his entire freedom from any feeling of personal hostility to 
his political opponents, and his constant and unvarying kindness 
and gentleness to his friends." 



CHAPTER VUl, 

MARTIN VAN BUREN 

nin'a and Childhood. — Studies Law. — Talents and Industry. — Political Principles.-- 
Success as a Lawyer and Politician. — Aids in the Election of Jackson. — Secretary of 
State. — Mrs. Eaton. — Resigns his Secretaryship. — Minister to England. — Rejected bj 
the Senate. — Attains the Vice-Presidency.— Patronage of Gen. Jackson. — Chosen 
President. — Retirement and Declining Years. 

There is but little in the life of Martin Van Buren of romantic 
interest. He fought no battles, engaged in no wild adventures. 




HE-SIDKNCK OV JIAKTIX VAN BUREN. 



Though his life was stormy i.i political and intellectual conflicts, 
and he gained many signal victories, his days passed uneventful 
in those incidents which give KC^t to biography. His ancestors, 

Si 241 



242 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

as his name indicates, were of Dutch origin, and were ?.mong the 
earliest emigrants from Holland to the banks of the Hudson. His 
father was a farmer, residing in the old town of Kiuderhook. His 
mother, also of Dutch lineage, was a woman of superior intelli- 
gence and of exemplary piety. Martin, their eldest son, was born 
on the 5th of December, 1782. 

He was decidedly a precocious boy, developing unusual activity, 
vigor, and strength of mind. At the age of fourteen, he had 
finished his academic studies in his native village, and com::2encGC. 
the study of the law. As he had not a collegiate education, s;eveii 
years of study in a law-office were required of him before he cou.V^ 
be admitted to the bar. Inspired with a lofty ambition, and cotj- 
scious of his powers, he pursued his studies with indefatigable ii>- 
dustry. After spending six years in an office in his native village, 
he went to the city of New York, and prosecuted his studies for 
the seventh year under the tuition of William P. Van Ness, who 
subsequently obtained celebrity as the second of Burr, in his duel 
with Hamilton. 

Martin Van Buren's father was a tavern-keeper, as well as a 
farmer ; a man of imperturbable good nature, and a very decided 
Democrat. His son inherited from him both his bonhomie and 
his political principles. It is said of the son, that, all through 
life, he was ever ready to greet his most bitter opponent with an 
open hand and a friendly smile. Burr was in the most brilliant 
period of his career when the young law-student first made his 
acquaintance. There was a certain congeniality of spirit between 
them which promoted friendship. Martin, then a young man of 
twenty, was very handsome, and was endowed with shinii.ig abili- 
ties ; and one can apparently see in his after-life the influence 
which the seductive and commanding mind of Burr exerted upon 
his youthful nature. In one respect, indeed, they were difierent: 
Mr. Van Buren was ever a man of irreproachable morality. 

In 1803, Mr. Van Buren, then twenty-one years of age, com- 
menced the practice of law in his native village. The great con- 
flict between the ^''ederal and Republican party was then at its 
height. It has often been necessary in the previous sketches to 
allude to the principles which separated the two parties. Wash- 
ington and John Adams considered our great danger to consist in 
not giving the Cetitral Government sufficient power : the Demo- 
cratic party, on the contrary, under the leadership of Jefierson. 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 243 

thought that our danger cousisted in not giving the State govern- 
raents suflScient power. 

In August, 1786, George Washington wrote to Jay, "We have 
probably had too good an opinion of human nature in forming our 
confederacy. I do not conceive that we can long exist as a nation, 
without having centralized somewhere a power which will per- 
vade the whole Union in as energetic a manner as the authority 
of the State governments extends over the several States." 

Mr. Van Buren was, from the beginning, a politician. He had, 
perhaps, imbibed that spirit while listening to the many discussions 
which had been carried on in his father's bar-room. He was in 
cordial sympathy with Jefferson, and earnestly and eloquently 
espoused the cause of State Rights ; though, at that time, the Fede- 
ral party held the supremacy both in his town and state. Though 
ever taking an active part in politics, he devoted himself with 
great assiduity to the duties of a village lawyer, and rose rapidly 
in his profession. 

His success and increasing reputation led him, after six years 
of practice, to remove to Hudson, the shire-town of his county. 
Here he spent seven years, constantly gaining strength by 
contending in the courts with some of the ablest men who have 
adorned the bar of his State. The heroic example of John Quincy 
Adams, in retaining in office every faithful man, without regard to 
his political preferences, had been thoroughly repudiated under 
the administration of Gen. Jackson. The unfortunate principle 
was now fully established, that " to the victors belong the spoils." 
Still this principle, to which Mr. Van Buren gave his adherence, 
was not devoid of inconveniences. When, subsequently, he at- 
tained power which placed vast patronage in his hands, he was 
heard to say, — 

" I prefer an office which has no patronage. When I give a 
man an office, I offend his disappointed competitors and their 
friends. Nor am I certain of gaining a friend in the man I appoint ; 
for, in all probability, he expected something better." 

Just before leaving Kinderhook for Hudson, Mr. Van Buren 
/Larried a lady alike distinguished for beauty and accomplish- 
ments. After twelve short years, she sank into the grave, tho 
victim of consumption, leaving her husband and four sons to weep 
over her loss. For twenty-five years, Mr. Van Buren was an 
earnest, successful, assiduous lawyer. The record of those years 



244 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

is barren in items of public interest. The political affairs of the 
State of New York, with which he was constantly intermingled^ 
were in an entangled condition which no mortal would now under- 
take to unravel. In 1812, when thirty years of age, he was chosen 
to the State Senate, and gave his strenuous support to Mr, Madi- 
son's administration. In 1815, he was appointed Attorney-Gen- 
eral ; and, the next year, moved to Albany, the capital of the State. 
Here he cordially supported the administration of Mr. Madison ; 
and yet he voted for Clinton, in opposition to Madison, at his 
second election. Soon after this, we again find him the unrelent- 
ing opponent of Clinton. 

While he was acknowledged as one of the most prominent 
leaders of the Democratic party, he had the moral courage to avow 
that true democracy did not require that '^ universal suffrage " 
which admits the vile, the degraded, the ignorant, to the right of 
governing the State. In true consistency with his democratic 
principles, he contended, that, while the path leading to the privi- 
lege of voting should be open to every man without distinction, 
no one should be invested with that sacred prerogative, unless he 
were in some degree qualified for it by intelligence, virtue, and 
some property-interest in the welfare of the State. He contended 
that "universal suffrage " with the motley mass who crowd the 
garrets and cellars of New York would render the elections a 
curse rather than a blessing, and would drive all respectable 
people from the polls. 

Mr. Van Buren cannot, perhaps, be accused of inconsistency in 
his political life ; and yet, in endeavoring to trace out his careei 
amidst the mazes of party politics, one is reminded of the attempt 
to follow with the eye the mounted aide of a general amidst the 
smoke, tumult, and uproar of the field of battle, now moving in 
one direction, now in another, and yet ever in accordance with 
some well-established plan. 

In 1818, there was a great split in the Democratic party in New 
York ; and Mr. Van Buren took the lead in organizing that portion 
of the i)artv called the '' Albany Regency," which is said to 
have swayed the destinies of the State for a quarter of a century. 
In 1821, he was elected a member of the United-States Senate; 
and, in the same year, he took a seat in the convention to revise 
the constitution of his native State. His course in this conven- 
tion secured the approval of men of all parties. No one could 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 245 

doubt the singleness of his endeavors to promote the interests of 
all classes in the community. In the Senate of the United States, 
he rose at once to a conspicuous position as an active and useful 
legislator; acting always, however, in sympathy with the Republi. 
can, or Democratic party. 

In 1827, John Quincy Adams being then in the presidential 
chair, Mr. Van Buren was re-elected to the Senate. lie had been 
from the beginning a determined opposer of the Administration, 
adopting the " State-Rights " view in opposition co what was 
deemed the Federal proclivities of Mr. Adams. In his letter 
accepting the senatorship, in accordance with h's character as a 
" strict constructionist," he said, — 

" It shall be my constant and zealous endeavor to protect the 
remaining rights reserved to the States by the Federal Constitu- 
tion, to restore those of which they have been divested by con- 
struction, and to promote the interest and honor of our common 
country.'- 

Soon after this, in 1828, he was chosen Governor of the State 
of New York, and accordingly resigned his seat in the Senate. 
Probably no one in the United States contributed so much to- 
wards ejecting John Quincy Adams from the presidential chair, 
and placing in it Andrew Jackson, as did Martin Van Buren. 
Wiether entitled to the reputation or not, he certainly was re- 
garded throughout the United States as one of the most skilful, 
sagacious, and cunning of manoeuvrers. It was supposed that no 
one knew so well as he how to touch the secret springs of action ; 
how to pull all the wires to put his machinery in motion; and how 
to organize a political army which would, secretly and stealthily, 
accomplish the most gigantic results. By these powers, it is said 
that he o^'itwitted Mr. Adams, Mr. Clay, Mr. Webster, and secured 
results which few thought then could be accomplished. In the 
sp.::Tig of 1827, Mr. Webster had no doubt that Mr. Adams's 
adm" i.'.strajion would be sustained. He wrote to Jeremiah 
Mason, — 

" A survey of the whole ground leads me to believe con- 
fidently in Mr. Adams's re-election. I set down New England, 
New Jersey, the greater part of Maryland, and perhaps all Dela- 
wars, Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, Missouri, and Louisiana, for him. 
Wo must then get votes enough in New York to choose him, and, 
i. thiiik. caniio!. fail of this." 



246 LIVES OF THE PRESTDENTts. 

At the appointed hour, Mr. Van Buren opened his masked 
batteries. Mines were sprung all over the United States. The 
battle raged with fury which had scarcely ever been eqaalled. 
The names of Adams and Jackson rang out upon every breeze : 
each was represented as an angel, each a demon. There was not 
an aristocratic crime which John Quincy Adams had not com- 
mitted, no democratic atrocity of which Andrew Jackson had 
not been guilty. 

At length, the electoral votes were cast. Gen. Jackson re- 
ceived one hundred and seventy-eight; Mr. Adams, eighty-three. 
Gen. Jackson immediately offered the post of Secretary of State 
to Mr. Van Buren ; a tribute, as he said, " to his acknowledged 
talents and public services, and in accordance with the wishes 
of the Republican party throughout the Union." 

Scarcely had Gen. Jackson taken his seat in the presidential 
chair, ere there arose one of the most singular difficulties which 
ever distracted the government of a nation. There was a taverii- 
keeper in Washington who had a pretty, vivacious, free-and-eaty 
daughter, by the name of Peg O'Neil. Peg may have been a verv 
virtuous girl ; but she was so intimate with all her father's guests, 
so unreserved in conversation and manners, and withal so fasci- 
nating, that her reputation was not unblemished. Gen. Jackson, 
when senator in 1823, had boarded with the old man, ana had 
become acquainted with his pretty, daughter. Miss O'Neil, how- 
ever, eventually married a purser in the United-States navy, by 
the name of Timberlake. He was, of course, much of the time 
absent from home. Major John H. Eaton, a senator from Tennes- 
see, took board at O'Neil's tavern, and became very much fasci- 
nated by the beautiful and witty Mrs. Timberlaks. E,ej)cvt was 
busy with the fair fame of them both; and the lady, wbether 
justly or unjustly, acquired a very unenviable reputatior. Her 
husband one day, in a fit of melancholy, while in the Mediterranean, 
committed suicide; and Major Eaton immediately after married her. 
This event took place soon after Gen. Jackson's election to the 
presidency. 

Major Eaton was a friend of Gen. Jackson, and was appointed 
by him Secretary of War. The ladies of the other members of 
the cabinet were in great trouble. How could they receive Peg 
O'Neil (now Mrs. Eaton), with her sullied reputation, into theii 
social circles ? They conferred together, and resolved that they 



MARTIN VAN BUR EN. 247 

would not do it. Gen. Jackson, mindful of his own past troubles 
in that line, and assuming, with all the force of his impetuous 
nature, that Mrs. Eaton was a traduced and virtuous woman, re- 
solved that she should be received as an honored member of the 
republican court. Several of the members of the cabinet were 
married, and these gentlemen sympathized with their wives. The 
cabinet was divided. The conflict roused all the tremendous 
energies of Gen. Jackson's soul. 

Mr. Yan Buren had neither wife nor daughter. He was one of 
the most pliant, politic, and courteous of men. It was one of tho 
fundamental principles of his life, never to give offence, and never 
to appear to notice an injury. lie was ever polite, alike to saint 
and sinner, to friend and enen^y. Not unconscious of the gratifi- 
cation it would afford Gen. Jackson, he called upon Mrs. Eaton, 
made parties for her, and treated her with the most marked 
respect. His great abilities had already secured the confidence 
of the President, which thiy policy tended only to increase. Those 
familiar with the state of things at Washington soon perceived 
that Martin Van Buren had become a great power, and that he 
was on the high road to any degree of elevation he might desire. 

The boundless popularity of Gen. Jackson rendered it probable 
that any one whom he might suggest as his successor would ob- 
tain the election. Not one year had elapsed after Gen. Jackson 
had assumed the rciric3 of government, ere he avowed to his friends 
bis intention to do every thing in his power to secure the presi- 
dency for Mr. Van Buren. About this time, the President was 
taken very sick. He therefore wrote a letter, carefully worded, 
i3 be published ^q case he should die, expressive of his wishes. 
In this letter, he oays, — 

" Permit me here to say of Mr. Van Buren, that I have found 
aim every thing I could desire him to bo, and believe him not only 
deserving my confidence, but the confidence of the nation. Instead 
of his being selfish and intriguing, as has been represented by his 
opponents, I have ever found him frank, open, candid, and manly. 
A.S a counsellor, he is able and prudent, republican in his prin- 
ciples, and one of the most pleasant men to do business with I 
ever saw. He is well qualified to fill the highest office in the gift 
i)f the people, who in him will find a true friend, and safe deposi- 
tary of their rights and liberty." 

For two years, this Mrs. Eaton conflict raged bitterly. Foreign 



248 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

ministers and their wives were drawn into tLe tioubled arena. 
Mr. Van Buren, however, succeeded in so governing bis own 
actions, as to be ever increasing in strength. Daniel Webster 
wrote, early in the year 1831, — 

" Mr. Van Buren has evidently, at this moment, quite the lead 
in influence and importance. He controls all tha pages on the back 
atairs, and flatters what seems at present the * Aaron's serpent 
among the President's desires, — a settled purpose of making out 
the ladv; of whom so much has been said, a person of reputatioE. 
It is odd enough, but too evident to be doubted, that the conse- 
quence of this dispute in the social and fashionable world is pro- 
ducing great political effects, and may very probably determine 
who shall be successor to the present Chief Magistrate." 

In the division of the cabinet, there were, for Mrs. Eaton, Mr. 
Van Buren, Major Eaton, Mr. Barry, and the President; against 
her, Mr. Ingham, Mr. Branch, Mr. Berrien, and the Vice-President, 
Calhoun. This latter personage now hated Van Buren with per- 
fect hatred. The President so loved him, that he wa': accustomed 
to address him with endearing epithets ; speaking of him to others 
as Van, and calling him, to his face, Matty. At length, the Presi- 
dent resolved to introduce harmony into his cabinet by the 
unprecedented measure of dismissing them all, and organizing 
the cabinet anew. This was to be accomplished by having those 
who were in sympathy with him resign, and receive rich offices 
elsewhere. If the others took the hint, and resigned also, well 
and good ; if not, they were to be dismissed. Mr. Van Buren 
sent in his resignation, and immediately was appointed minister to 
the court of St. Jamoc. 

All this redounded to the reputation of Mr. Van Buren ; and 
more and more he was regp.rded as the gieat magician, whoso 
wand possessed almost supernatural power. Upon returning to 
New York, he met with a triumphant reception, and, early in the 
autumn of 1831, sailed for London. Soon after nic arrival thera, 
Congress again met. It was necessary that tho Senate should 
ratify his appointment. Messrs. Calhoun, Clay, and Webster 
appeared prominently as his opponents, accusing him of such a 
spirit of narrow partisanship as to unfit him to be the representa- 
tive of our v;hole country. He was accused of being the origi- 
nator of the system of removing from office every incumbent, how- 
ever able and faithful, who did not advuoat^ the principles of the 



MARTIN VAN BUR EN 249 

party in power. It was during the discussion upon this question 
that Gov. Marcy of New York, in defending the system of party 
removals, uttered the memorable words, — 

" It may be, sir, that the politicians of New York are not so 
fastidious as some gentlemen are as to disclosing the principles 
on which they act. They boldly preach what they practise. 
When they are contending for victory, they avow their intention 
of enjoying the fruits of it. If they are defeated, they expect tc 
retire from oiEce ; if they are successful, they claim, as a matter 
of right, the advantages of success. They see nothing wrong in 
the rule, that to the victor belong the spoils of the enemy." 

In this hour, when Mr. Van Buren was so bitterly assailed, Gov. 
Forsyth of Georgia paid the following beautiful tribute to his 
character : — 

" Long known to me as a politician and a man ; acting together 
in the hour of political adversity, when we had lost all but our 
honor ; a witness of his movements when elevated to power, and 
in possession of the confidence of the Chief Magistrate and of the 
great majority cf the people, — I have never witnessed aught in 
Mr. Van Buren which requires concealment, palliation, or coloring; 
never any thing to lessen his character as a patriot or a man; 
nothing which he might not desire to see exposed to the scrutiny 
of every member of this body, with the calm confidence of unsul- 
lied integrity. He is called an artful man, a giant of artifice, a 
wily magician. Those ignorant of his unrivalled knowledge of 
human character, his power of penetrating into the designs and 
defeating the y.urposes of his adversaries, seeing his rapid advance 
to power and jfublic confidence, impute to art what is the natural 
result of those simple causes. Extraordinary talent; untiring in- 
dustry ; inceF;,ant vigilance ; the happiest temper, which success 
cannot corrupt, nor disappuintir.ent sour, — these are the sources of 
Lis unexampled success, the magic arts, the artifices of intrigue, 
to wliich only he has resorted in his eventful life. Those who 
envy his success may learn ^\isdom from his example." 

Mr. Van Buren's rejection by the Senate must have been to 
him a great mortification. When the news reached London, it 
was proclaimed in all the journals of the city. That evening. 
Prince Talleyrand, the French minister, gave a party. Mr. Van 
Buren was present, as calm, social, and smiling as if floating on 
the fuU tide of prosperity. He returned to America, apparently 

32 



250 LIVES OF THE PRESIDE-^'T.?. 

untroubled; was nominated for Vice-Presider fc, m ta-^ p.a--e of Ct ,!• 
bouD^ at the re-election of President JaczRon ; and with snailes for 
all, and frowns for none, went to take his place at thv^ head of thai 
Senate Trhich had refused to confirm his nozranation as ambas- 
sador. 

Mr. CilLoun supposed that Mr. Van Baren's rejection bv the 
Senate would prove his political death, and is repcrted to have 
said triunphantly, " It will kill him, sir, — kill him (>.ad. He will 
never kic:i, sir, — never kick." This rejection rors3d all the zea 
of President Jackson in behalf of his repudiated favorite ; and tliis 
probably more than any other cause, secured his elevation to the 
chair of the Chisf Executive. On the 20th of May, 1836, Mr. Van 
Bursn r-ce:ved the Democratic nomination to succeed Gen. Jack- 
son as Presid'^nt of the United States. U-t. <vas elected by a 
handsome majority, to the great delight of the retiring President. 
" Leaving New York out of the canvass," says llr. Part.on, '•' ihe 
election of Mr. Van Buren to the presidency was as m' -^b 
the act of Gen. Jackson as though the ConstJtutic n had coiifetre,-.' 
upon him the power to appoint a successor." 

It was one of the most brilliant days of spring, T'hen the ;.on'; 
procession which accompanied Mr. Van Buren to his inaugura- 
t"on passed through Pennsylvania Avenue. A s:'a?.all volunteer 
corps escorted the President elect as he rode in a phaetor: draw^-. 
by four grays. Gen. Jackson accompanied his frien- , and both 
rode uncovered. As they alighted from the carriage at the fojt 
of the steps, and ascended through the dense and raoving raass, 
the tall head of the old chieftain, with his bristlirc^ hair, tiwereJ. 
above all the rest, and attracted every eye. Tlv:- day ^i.z calm, 
and the air elastic. Twenty thousand people wero there asse_i- 
bled. As Mr, Van Buren delivered his inaugural address, his 
clear voice, in its distinct articulation, reached every ear. 

The policy of the Government had been so distinc-jly markc' 
out by Gen. Jackson, and Mr. Van Buren har. so distinctly 
avowed his attention of following m the fooicu.sps of his illus- 
trious predecessor, that there was no call for tbt> introduction of 
any new acts, or for any change in the administration. 

Mr. Van Buren had scarcely taken his seat in the presidentrU 
chair, when a financial panic, almost unprecedented in its disas- 
trous results, swept the land. Many attributed this to the war 
which Gen. Jackson had waged upon the bo-nks, and to his ei> 



MARTIN VAN BUR EN. 



251 



deavor to secure an almost exclusive specie cur.'ency. Nearlj 
every bank in the country was compelled to suspend specie pay- 
ment, and ruin pervaded all our great cities. Not less than two 
hundred and fifty houses failed in New York in three weeks. 
All public works were brought to a stand, and there was a gen- 
eral state of dismay. At the same time, we were involved in an 
inglorious war with the Seminole Indians ia Florida, which re 
fleeted no honor upon our arms. Th3 slavery question was rising 
' 1 portentous magnitude, introducing agitation, ra^-e, and mob 
violence, in ahriDst every city and village of the Hnd. 

There was an insurrection in Canada against the British Gov- 
ernment, which came near involving us in a "wr.r with tna-^ nation. 
A party of Canadian insurgents had rendezvoused on Navy 
[island, in the Niagara River, opposite the village called Fort 
''.■ hlosser, on tlu^ Am*M-I(';in <]At\ A ^Trn.]] steamboat, called "The 




./A~olir:3,'' whv->'. \iZ sus^..- ^t-^' .. .-.V::r..g carried ammunition and 
supplies iAj -.\9 insurge' k', w&& mrored to the American shore. 
The Briti&h cvmuanler, regardless of territorial rights, sent an 
armed force acrcss the rv i, attacked the steamer, killed several 



252 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of her defenders, applied the torch to the boat, and sent it in 
flames over the Falls of Niagara. The circumstance called forth 
a long and angry correspondence with the British Government; 
and, in the exasperations of the hour, we barely escaped war. 

About the same time, there also arose a contest between Maine 
and Great Britain respecting boundary-lines ; and there was the 
angry mustering of bests, in preparation for battle. With all 
these troub]3s on his hands, the four years which Mr. Van Buren 
spent in the White House must have been years of anxiety and 
toil. Still, he was anrAous for a re-election. Gen. Jackson did 
every thing in his pcvror to aid him. But public sentiment was 
now setting so strongly ag'iinst the Administration, that the Whig 
candidate, William Henry Harrison, was chosen President, and Mr. 
Van Buren was permitted to retire to the seclusion of Kinderhook. 

He bad ever been a prudent man, of frug-al habits, and, living 
within his income, had now fovlrialrly a ••Vurotence for his 
declining years. His unblemished characl"..r, hic- cu;CLmanding 
abilities, his unquestioned patriotism, and tb° distinguished posi- 
tions which he had occupied in the government of the cy.ntry, 
secured to him, not only the homag- of tiis party, but the rcsoect 
of the whole community. It was on t, -. 4th of March, 1841, that 
Van Buren retired from the presidency. From his fine estate at 
Lindenwald, he still exerted a powerful influence upon the poli- 
tics of the country. In 1844, his friends made strenuous efiorts to 
have him renominated for the presidency. The proslavery por- 
tion of the Democratic party, however, carried the day; and James 
K. Polk of Tennessee received the nomination. Again, in 18-5, 
the Free-soil Democrats brought forward his name for the presi- 
dency. Three hundred thousand votes were cast in his favor. 
Gen. Taylor, however, the Whig candidate, was the choice of the 
people. From this time until his death, on the 24th of July, 1862, 
at the age of eighty years, he resided at Lindenwald, a gentleman 
of leisure, of culture, and of wealth ; enjoying, in a healthy, vigor- 
ous old age, probaby l;i- wore happiness than he had before expe- 
rienced amidst the ^'/..-rs-ry Gooiies of his active life. He was 
surrounded by friends, and Ins o vn cheerful disposition gilded 
every hour. Martin Van Buren was a gis. '. and good njan; and 
no one will question his right to a high pcsitivu among these who 
have been the successors of Washington in the occupancy of Ibe 
presidential chair. 



CHAPTER IX. 

WILLIAM HENHY HAKRISON. 

Hirth and Ancestry. — Enters United-States Army. — Is promoted. ^ Resigns his 
Commission. — Sent to Congress. — Governor of Indiana Territory. — His Scru- 
pulous Integrity. — Indian Troubles. — Battle of Tippecanoe. — War with Great 
Britain. — Governor Harrison's Perplexities and Labors. — The British reiiulsed. 
— Tecumseh slain. — False Accusations. — Speech in Congress. — Reply to Ran- 
dolph. — Letter to President Bolivar. — Temperance Principles. — Views respect- 
ing Slavery. — Duelling. — Elected President. — Death. 

William Henry Harrison was born in Virginia, on the banks 
of the James River, at a place called Berkeley, February 9, 1773. 




RESIDKNCK 111' WIl.r.IAM IIKNKY IIAnP.ISOX. 



His father, Benjamin Harrison, was in comparatively opulent 
circumstances, and was one of the most distinguished men of 



254 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

\h day. He was an intimate friend of George Washington, waa 
early elected a member of the Continental Congress, and was con- 
spicuous among the patriots of Virginia in resisting the encroach- 
ments of the British crown. Tn the celebrated Congress of 1775, 
Benjamin Harrison and John Hancock were both candidates for 
the office of speaker. Mr. Harrison at once yielded to the illus- 
trious patriot from the Bay State ; and, seeing that Mr. Hancock 
modestly hesitated to take the chair, Mr. Harrison, who was a very 
portly man, and of gigantic strength, with characteristic good 
nature and playfulness seized Mr. Hancock in his athletic arms, 
and carried him, as though he Avere a child, to the seat of honor. 
Then turning around, with his honest, beaming face, he said to 
his amused associates, — 

" Gentlemen, we will sh'-.w Mother Britain how little we care 
for her by making a Micsachusetts man our President whom she 
has excluded from pardon by a public proclamation." 

Like most men of '/^.rge stature, Mr. Harrison was full of fun, and 
never liked to lose an opportunity for a joke. He was one of the 
signers of the Declaration of Indts.endence ; and he it was who 
made the ludicrous remark about '' hanging " to Elbridge Gerry, 
to which we have referred in the life of Jefferson. 

Mr. Harrison was subsequently chosen Governor of Virginia, 
and was twice re-elected. His son William Henry, of course, en- 
joyed in childhood all the advantages which wealth and intellect- 
ual and cultivated society could give. Having received a thorough 
common-school education, he entered Hampden Sidney College, 
where he graduated with honor soon after the death of his father. 
He then repaired to Philadelphia to study medicine under the 
instruction of Dr. Rush and the guardianship of Robert Morris, 
both of whom were, with his father, signers of the Declaration of 
Independence. 

George Washington was then President of the United States. 
The Indians were committing fearful ravages on our north-western 
frontier. For the protection of the settlers. Gen. St. Clair was 
stationed, with a considerable military force, at Fort Washington, 
on the far-away waters of the then almost unexplored Ohio, near 
the spot where the thronged streets of Cincinnati are now spread 
out. Young Harrison, either lured by the love of adventure, or 
moved by the sufferings of families, exposed to th(3 most horrible 
ou.trages, abandoned his meiical Ttudir?3, and, notwithstanding the 



WTLLIA3I HENRY HARRISON. 255 

remoustrances of his friends, entered the army, having obtained a 
commission of ensign from President Washington. He was thtn 
nineteen years of age. 

The hostile Indians, who had originally been roused against us 
during the war of the Revolution by the Government of Great Bri- 
tain, were spread over that vast wilderness now occupied by the 
States of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. They could bring many 
thousand warriors into the field, who had been supplied with am- 
munition and arms by the British authorities in Canada. Just 
before young Harrison received his commission, Gen. St. Clair, 
advancing into the wilderness with fourteen hundred men, was 
attacked by the Indians near the head waters of the Wabash, and 
utterly routed, with a loss of five hundred and thirty killed, 
and ■". -ree hundred and sixty wounded. This awful defeat had 
spread consternation throughout the whole frontier. 

Wiutar was setting in. Young Harrison, in form and strength, 
was fi'ail ; and many of his friends, thinking he would be unable to 
endure the hardships of a winter campaign, urged him to resign 
his cOiVXi""'!ssion. He, however, rejected this advice, and, crossing 
the co^v-try on foot to Pittsburg, descended the Ohio to Fort 
vVashington. The first duty assigned him was to take comman ] 
of a train of pack-horses bound to Fort Hamilton, on the Miami 
River, about forty miles from Fort Washington. It was a very 
arduous and perilous service ; but it was so well performed as to 
command the especial commendation of Gen. St. Clair. A veteran 
frontiersman said of the young soldier, — 

" I would as soon have thought of putting my wife into the ser- 
vice as this boy ; but I have been out with him, and find those 
smooth cheeks are on a wise head, and that slight frame is almost 
as tough as my own weather-beaten carcass." 

Intemperance was at that time, as it ever has been, the bane of 
•■-he army ; but young Harrison, inspired by some good impulse, 
adopted the principles of a thorough temperance man, to which 
he adhered throughout his whole life. This enabled him to bear 
hardships and endure privations under which others sank to an 
early grave. 

Soon he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and joined the 
army which Washington had placed under the command of Gen. 
Wayne to prosecute more vigorously the war with the Indians. 
The new general who succeeded St. Clair had acquired, by iiia 



256 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

reckless daring, the title of " Mad Anthony." On the 28th of No- 
vember, 1792, Gen. Wayne, with an army of about three thousand 
non-commissioned officers and privates, descended the Ohio from 
Pittsburg, a distance of twenty-two miles, and encamped for the 
winter. In the spring, he conveyed his troops in boats down the 
river to Fort Washington. Here Lieut. Harrison joined the " Le- 
gion," as Wayne's army was called. His soldierly qualities imme- 
diately attracted the attention and secured the confidence of his 
commander-in-chief. 

Several months were lost in waiting for supplies before the 
army could move. In October, they advanced to a post which they 
called Greenville, about eighty miles due north. Here the army 
encamped for the winter. A strong detachment was sent some 
twenty miles farther north, to occupy the ground where St. Cla'r 
was defeated, to bury the remains of the dead, and to establish 
there a strong post, which they named Fort Recovery. Ii this 
enterprise, Lieut. Harrison is mentioned as having rendered con- 
spicuous service. 

The Indians, in the early spring, attacked the fort with the 
greatest determination. They were, however, repulsed in repeat jd 
assaults, and at length retired, having lost a large portion of 
their band. 

Gen. Wayne then advanced with his whole army some sixt/ 
miles north to the junction of the Au Glaize and Maumee Rivers, 
where he constructed a strong fort. On the 20th of August, as he 
was continuing his march down the Maumee, he encountered the 
Indians in great force, lying in ambush. Their numbers were 
estimated at two thousand. A bloody battle ensued, in which 
both parties fought with the utmost desperation. The savages 
were driven howling into the woods, their villages were burned, 
and their cornfields destroyed. This signal discomfiture broke 
their spirit, and they implored peace. Again Lieut. Harrison sig 
nalized himself, and obtained from his commanding officer the 
following commendation : — 

" Lieut. Harrison was in the foremost front of the hottest battle. 
His person was exposed from the commencement to the close of 
the action. Wherever duty called, he hastened, regardless of 
danger, and, by his efibrts and example, contributed as much to 
secure the fortunes of the day as any other officer subordinate 
to the commander-in-chief." 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 257 

Lieut. Harrison was promoted to the rank of captain, and 
was placed in command at Fort Washington. The British military 
posts in the north-west were about this time surrendered to the 
National Government; and Capt. Harrison was employed in occu- 
pying them, and in supplying them with provisions and militarj' 
stores. While thus employed, he married a daughter of John 
Cleves Symmes, one of the frontiersmen who had established a 
thriving settlement on the banks of the Maumee. 

In 1797, Capt. Harrison, then twenty-four years of age, resigned 
his commission in the army, and was appointed Secretary of the 
North-western Territory, and ex officio Lieutenant-Governor, Gen. 
St. Clair being then Governor of the territory. At that time, the 
law in reference to the disposal of the public lands was such, that 
no one could purchase in tracts less than four thousand acres. This 
inured to the benefit of the rich speculator ; and the poor settler 
could only purchase at second-hand, and at a greatly advanced 
price. Mr, Harrison, in the face of violent opposition, succeeded 
in obtaining so much of a modification of this unjust law, that the 
land was sold in alternate tracts of six hundred and fort}'' and 
three hundred and twenty acres. The North-western Territory 
was then entitled to one delegate in Congress, and Capt. Harrison 
was chosen to fill that office. 

In the spring of 1800, the >lorth-western Territory was divided 
by Congress into two portions. The eastern portion, comprising 
the region now embraced in the State of Ohio, was called " The 
Territory north-west of the Ohio." The western portion, which in- 
cluded what is now called Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin, was 
called "The Indiana Territory." William Henry Harrison, then 
twenty-seven years of age, was appointed by John Adams Governor 
of the Indiana Territory, and, immediately after, also Governor of 
Upper Louisiana. He was thus the ruler over almost as extensive a 
realm as any sovereign upon the globe. He was Superintendent of 
Indian Affairs, and was invested with powers nearly dictatorial over 
the now rapidly-increasing white population. The ability and 
fidelity with which he discharged these responsible duties may bo 
inferred from the fact that he was four times appointed to this 
/office, — first by John Adams, twice by Thomas Jefferson, and 
afterwards by President Madison. 

When he commenced his administration, there were but three 
white settlements in that almost boundless region, now crowded 

33 



258 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

with cities, and resounding with all the tumult of wealth and 
traffic. One of these settlements was on the Ohio, nearly opposite 
Louisville; one at Vincennes, on the Wabash; and the third a 
French settlement. 

Gov. Harrison discharged his arductus duties with such manifest 
justice, that no one ventured to question his integrity. During 
his administration, he effected thirteen treaties with the Indians, 
by which the United States acquired sixty millions of acres of 
land. Gov. Harrison was sole commissioner, and every treaty ho 
formed received the sanction of the President and Senate of the 
United States. He had ample opportunities to enrich himself; 
for he could confirm grants of land to individuals, his sole signa- 
ture giving a title which could not be questioned : but he never 
held a single acre by a title emanating from himself. The fron- 
tiers of civilization are always occupied by a lawless class of 
vagabonds, who shrink from no outrages : these men abused the 
Indians in every way whicli passion or interest could dictate. 
In a communication to the Government, July, 1801, Gov. Harri- 
son says, — 

" All these injuries the Indians have hitherto borne with aston- 
ishing patience. But, though they discover no disposition to 
make war upon the United States, I am confident that most of 
the tribes would eagerly seize any favorable opportunity for that 
purpose ; and, should the United States be at war with any 
European nations who are known to the Indians, there would 
probably be a combination of more than nine-tenths of the North- 
ern tribes against us, unless some means are made use of to con- 
ciliate them." 

Mr. Jefferson was now President, and humanely made great 
exertions to protect the Indians, and to induce them to abandon 
their wild hunting-life, and to devote themselves to the cultiva- 
tion of the land. In 1804, Gov. Harrison obtained a cession from 
the Indians of all the land between the Illinois River and the 
Mississippi. 

A territorial legislature was soon organized for the rapidly- 
increasing population, over which the governor presided with 
that dignity, courtesy, and unswerving integrity, which secured 
to him universal respect. By nature, he had much kindness of 
heart; and his affability of manners, and his tact in meeting all 
varieties of human character, rendered him greatly beloved. His 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 259 

magnanimous devotion to tlie public interest was such, that he 
several times appointed decided political opponents to offices of 
trust which he deemed them eminently fitted to fill. He was so 
cautious to avoid the appearance of evil, that he would not keep 
the public money on hand, but always made his payments by 
drafts upon Washington. It has been said that no man ever dis- 
bursed so large an amount of public treasure with so little dilK- 
culty in adjusting his accounts. 

For twelve years, he was Governor of the Territory of Indiana. 
A wealthy foreigner, by the name of M'Intosh, loudly accused 
the governor of having defrauded the Indians in the treaty of 
Fort Wayne. The governor demanded investigation in a court 
of justice ; and not only Avas he triumphantly acquitted, but the 
jury brought in a verdict against M'Intosh for damages to the 
amount of four thousand dollars. Gov. Harrison, having thus ob- 
tained the perfect vindication of his character, distributed one- 
third of the sum to the orphan children of those who had died i-u 
battle, and restored the remainder to M'Intosh himself. 

The proprietor of the land upon which the city of St. Louis now 
stands offered him nearly half of the whole town for a merely 
nominal sum if he would assist in building up the place. So nice 
was his sense of honor, that he declined the offer, lest it might be 
said that he had used his official station to promote his private 
interests. In a few years, that property was worth millions. A 
large tract of land near Cincinnati had been sold, in the early set- 
tlement of the country, under an execution against the original 
proprietor, for a very small sum. At length, after the property had 
become immensely valuable, it was found, that, by some defective 
proceedings in the court, the sale was not valid; and the legal 
title was vested in Mrs. Harrison and another individual, as heirs- 
at-law. The lofty spirit of integrity which animated Gen. Harri- 
son led him instantly to discriminate between a legal and an 
equitable title. He obtained the consent of the co-heir, and imme- 
diately relinquished the whole property to the purchasers. These 
incidents surely reveal a character of very unusual magnanim- 
ity, disinterestedness, and generosity. 

The vast wilderness over which Gov. Harrison reigned was 
filled, as we have mentioned, with many tribes of Indians. About 
the year 1806, two extraordinary men, twin-brothers, of the Shaw- 
nese tribe, rose up among them. One of these was called Te« 



260 UVE8 OF THE PRESIDENTS 

cumseh, or "The Crouching Panther;" tlie other, Olllwacheca. oi 
" The Prophet," Tecumseh was not only an Indian warrior, but 
a man of great sagacity, far-reaching foresight, and indomitable 
perseverance in any enterprise in which he might engage. He 
was inspired with the highest enthusiasm, and had long regarded 
with dread and with hatred the encroachment of the whites upon 
the hunting-grounds of his fathers. His brother, the Prophet, 
was an orator, who could sway the feelings of tlie untutored In- 
dian as the gale tossed the tree-tops beneath which they dwelt. 

But the Prophet was not merely an orator : he Avas, in tlie su- 
perstitious minds of the Indians, invested with the superhuman 
dignity of a medicine-man, or a magician. With an enthusiasm 
unsurpassed by Peter the Hermit rousing Europe to the crusades, 
he went from tribe to tribe, assuming that he was specially sent 
by the Great Spirit. In the name of his divine Master, he com- 
manded them to abandon all those innovations which had been 
introduced through the white man, to return to the customs of 
their fathers, and to combine together for the extermination 
of the pale-faces. In co-operation with him, his heroic brother 
Tecumseh traversed thousands of miles of the forest, visiting the 
remoter tribes, announcing to them the divine mission of his 
brother, and seeking to enlist their co-operation. No discourage- 
ments chilled the zeal of these extraordinary and determined men. 
The}'' probably wrought themselves up to the full conviction that 
they were commissioned by the Great Spirit. 

The Prophet had occasionally protracted meetings for exhorta- 
tion and pra3^er, in which, through successive days, he plied all 
the arts of devotion and persuasion to fire the hearts of his fol- 
lowers. Two years were thus employed by these two brothers. 

In the summer of 1808, the Prophet established his encamp 
ment on the banks of the Tippecanoe, a tributary of the Upper 
Wabash. The measures of Tecumseh and the Prophet, in organ- 
izing this formidable conspiracy, had been conducted as secretiy 
as possible ; but the suspicions of the Government began to be 
aroused. To allay these suspicions, the Prophet visited Gov. 
Harrison, and, in an exceedingly insidious and plausible speech, 
stated that he had nc designs whatever of rousing his people to 
hostilities ; that he sought only their moral and religious im- 
provement. 

A large number of the Indians accompanied him. He often 



WILLIAM HENRY HARBISON: 261 

preached to them in the presence of the governor ; and his two 
gieat topics were the evils of war and of whiskey-drinking. His 
power over them had become so great, that by no persuasions 
of the whites could one of his followers be induced to take a 
drop of intoxicating drink. Still rumors were continually reach- 
ing Gov. Harrison, that the Indians were making extensive 
j)reparations for hostilities. 

In his earnest solicitude to learn the facts in the case, he sen! 
urgent invitations for both Tecumseh and the Prophet to visil 
him. Tecumseh at length came to Vincennes in proud array, with 
four hundred plumed warriors completely armed. A council was 
lioldeu on the 12th of August, 1809. The governor was quito 
unprepared for the appearance of a host so formidable. Assum- 
ing, however, that all was friendly, he met the proud chieftain, 
whom we call a savage, to deliberate upon the state of affairs. 
The governor was attended by the judges of the Supreme Court, 
a few army officers, and a number of" citizens. A small body- 
guard, consisting merely of a sergeant and twelve men, were 
drawn up at a'little distance. Tecumseh still aflSrmed, in a very 
dignified speech which he made to the governor, that he had no 
intention of making war: but he very boldly declared that it was 
his intention and endeavor to combine all the tribes for the purpose 
of putting a stop to all further encroachments by the whites; that 
not another acre of land should be ceded to them, without the 
consent of all the tribes; and that those chiefs who had recently 
made treaties by which they had disposed of lands to the United 
States should all be put to death. 

This statement led to indignant remonstrance on the part of 
Gov. Harrison. As he was speaking, Tecumseh interrupted him, 
and in angry tones, and with violent gesticulations, declared that 
he had cheated the Indians. Immediately his warriors, who were 
squatted upon the grass around, sprang to their feet, and began 
♦o brandish their war-clubs in the most threatening manner. 
Gov. Harrison rose from his arm-chair, and drew his sword. The 
army officers gathered around him. The citizens seized brick- 
bats, and such other weapons as they could lay their hands on ; 
and the guard came rushing forwai-d, ready to open fire upon the 
Indians. 

But Gov. Harrison calmly ordered them not to fire. Then, 
turning to Tecumseh, he told him that he should hold no more 



262 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



communication with him, but that, as ho had come under protec 
'-.Ion of the council-fire, he might depart unharmed. Tecumseb 




HARRISON'S INTERVIEW WITH TECUMSEH. 

and his companions retired to their encampment. That night the 
mu'litia of Vincennes were under arms, every moment expecting 
an attack. The night, however, passed without any alarm. In 
the morning, Tecumseh called upon the governor, expressed re 
gret for his conduct the day before, and reiterated his declaration 
that he had no hostile intentions, but was still firm in his position 
that no more land should be ceded to the whites without the con- 
sent of the chiefs of all the tribes ; and that the treaty which a few 
of the chiefs had recently entered into with the governor at Fort 
Wayne, he and his confederate tribes would regard as null and 
void. 

Soon after this. Gov.- Harrison, anxious to conciliate, visitea 
Tecumseh at his camp on the Tippecanoe River, a branch of the 
11 pper Wabash, some two hundred miles above Vincennes. He 
was politely received by the Indian chieftain; but he was informed, 
in language courieouc. out decided, that, though the Indians were 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 263 

very unwilling to go to war with the United States, they were 
determined that the land recently ceded should not be given up, 
and that no other treaty should ever be made without the consent 
of all the tribes. This was ridiculously assuming that all the 
laud on the continent belonged to the Indians in common, and 
that tribes on the St. Lawrence could not enter into a treaty 
without the consent of tribes upon the Gulf. 

Months rolled on, while Tecumseh and the Prophet were busy 
in their hostile preparations. Marauding bands of Indians, whom 
they professed to be unable to control, were perpetrating innumer- 
able annoyances. Horses were stolen, houses plundered; and the 
frontier settlements, which had now become quite numerous, were 
thrown into a state of great alarm. Tecumseh set out on a journey 
to enlist the Southern Indians in his confederacy. The posture 
of affairs became so threatening, that it was decided that the 
governor should visit the Prophet's town with an armed force, to 
observe what was going on, and to overawe by an exhibition of 
power, but to avoid hostilities if possible. Nearly a thousand 
troops were collected for this enterprise at Fort Harrison, on the 
Wabash, about sixty miles above Vincennes. 

The army commenced its march on the 28th of October, 1812. 
Conscious of the bravery and sagacity of their enemies, they 
moved in two bands, on each side of the Indian trail, over the 
prairies, in such order that they could instantly be formed into 
line of battle, or thrown into a hollow square. Their route led 
them along the east bank of the Wabash, through an open prairie 
countr}''. Early in November, they approached the Valley of the 
Tippecanoe, and encamped within ten miles of the Prophet's 
town. The next morning, the 5th, as they resumed their march, 
several parties of Indians were seen prowling about ; but they 
evaded all attempts at communication, replying only to such en- 
deavors with defiant and insulting gestures. When they had 
arrived within three miles of the town, three Indians of rank made 
their appearance, and inquired why Gov. Harrison was approach 
ing them in so hostile an attitude. After a short conference, 
arrangements were made for a meeting the next day, to agree 
upon terms of peace. 

But Gov. Harrison was too well acquainted with the Indian 
character to be deceived by such protestations. Selecting a 
favorable spot for his night's encampment, he took every pre- 



264 LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 

caution against surprise. His troops were posted in a hollow 
square, and slept upon their arms. Each corps was ordered, in 
case of an attack, to maintain its position at every hazard, until 
relieved. The dragoons were placed in the centre, and were 
directed, should there be any alarm, immediately to parade, dis- 
mounted, and hold themselves in readiness to relieve the point 
assailed. The most minute arrangements were given to meet 
every conceivable contingency. 

The troops threw themselves upon the ground for rest ; but 
every man had his accoutrements on, his loaded musket by his 
side, and his bayonet fixed. The wakeful governor, between 
three and four o'clock in the morning, had risen, and was sitting in 
conversation with his aides by the embers of a waning fire. It 
was a chill, cloudy morning, with a drizzling rain. In the dark- 
ness, the Indians had crept as near as possible, and just then, with 
a savage yell, rushed, with all the desperation which superstition 
and passion most highly inflamed could give, upon the left flank 
of the little army. The savages had been amply provided with 
guns and ammunition by the English. Their war-whoop was 
accompanied with an incessant shower of bullets. 

The camp-fires were instantly extinguished, as the light aided 
the Indians in their aim. With hideous yells, the Indian bands 
rushed on, not doubting a speedy and an entire victory. But Gen. 
Harrison's troops stood as immovable as the rocks around them 
until the day dawned : they then made a simultaneous charge with 
the bayonet, and swept every thing before them. The wretched 
Indians found the predictions of their Prophet iitterly false ; for 
the bullets and the bayonets of the white man pierced their bodies 
with appalling slaughter. The Prophet was present to witness this 
terrible defeat of his picked braves. The Indians, even when most 
reckless, were careful to conceal themselves as much as possible 
behind trees and rocks ; consequently, in most of their battles, 
they lost but few in killed and wounded: but in this case, when 
they fled to the swamp, they left sixty -one dead upon the field, 
and one hundred and twenty bleeding and helpless. 

Though the victory was entire, the loss of the Americans was 
fully equal to that of the Indians. 

Gen. Harrison was exposed like all his men. One bullet passed 
through the rim of his hat; another struck his saddle, and, glancing, 
hit his thigh; a third severely wounded the h> tse on which he 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 265 

rode. His coolness and good generalship were so conspicuous as 
to add greatly to his reputation ; and subsequently the battle of 
Tippecanoe became a watchword to inspire the zeal of those who 
were elevathig him to the presidency of the United States. After 
burying the dead and taking care of the wounded, they burned 
the Indian town, and destroyed every thing which could aid the 
savages in their future hostihties; and returned to Vincennes. 

Tecumsehwas then far away in the South, endeavoring to rouse 
the Indians there. But the tribes in the North-west, disappointed 
by the false predictions of the Prophet, and disheartened by their 
defeat, began to send deputies to Vincennes to secure peace. 
Soon, however, Tecumseh returned ; our second war with Great 
Britain commenced ; and the savages were drawn into an alliance 
with the English, and were animated to renew hostilities with 
more desperation than ever before. 

Gov. Harrison had now all his energies tasked to the utmost. 
The British, descending from the Canadas, were of themselves a 
very formidable force ; but with tlieir savage allies, rushing like 
wolves from the forest, searching out every remote farm-house, 
burning, plundering, scalping, torturing, the wide frontier was 
plunged into a state of consternation which even the most 
vivid imagination can but faintly conceive. The war-whoop was 
resounding everywhere through the solitudes of the forest. The 
horizon was illuminated with the conflagration of the cabins of 
the settlers. Gen. Hull had made the ignominious surrender 
of his forces at Detroit. Under these despairing circumstances, 
Gov. Harrison was appointed by President Madison commander-in- 
chief of the North-western army, with orders to retake Detroit, 
and to protect the frontiers. 

To meet the emergency, he was invested with almost unlimited 
authority. His army was to be collected from widely dispersed 
cabins, where the women and the children would thus be left un- 
protected. His men were entirely ignorant of discipline. His 
officers were inexperienced. There was then neither railroad 
nor steamboat ; and almost every thing for the supply of the army 
had to be transported over the wildest, roughest roads, from the 
Atlantic States. To reach Detroit, it was necessary for him to 
traverse a swampy forest, two hundred miles in extent, Avithout 
roads ; and the wilderness was ranged by the prowling Indian, 
ever liable to burst upon him from his ambush. At Detroit, he 

34 



266 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

would encounter the trained soldiers of England, veterans of a 
hundred battles, under loaders of renown, and aided by fcro( ious 
bands of savages, amply supplied with the most deadly weapons 
of war. The English had also quite a fleet which commanded the 
waters of Lake Erie. 

It would be difficult to place a man in a situation demanding 
more energy, sagacity, and courage ; but Gen. IJarrison was found 
equal to the position, and nobly and triumphantly did he moot 
all the responsibilities. A minute account of his adventures, his 
midnight marches, his bloody conflicts, his sufierings I'rora storms 
of sleet and snow, from famine, sickness, exposure, destitution, 
would fill volumes. The renown of such a man as Gen. Harrison 
is not cheaply gained. It is purchased at a great price. The 
Government, as we have mentioned, invested him with almost 
absolute power ; but, with all his tireless energy, never did ho 
in the slightest degree abuse that trust. 

He was a man of winning address, of a gentle and aff'ectionate 
spirit, and possessed native powers of persuasive eloquence which 
were very rare. A scene is described at one of their encamp- 
ments which will illustrate many others. The little army was 
groping through the forest, on the banks of the Au Glaise. Night 
came on, dark, stormy, and with sheets of rain. The low ground 
was soon flooded. They had no axes, could build no fires; and, as 
they had got ahead of their baggage, the}'' had no food. Some took 
their saddles, and sat upon them ; others found logs ; others stood 
in the water, and leaned against the trunks of trees. Thus they 
passed the miserable night. Gen. Harrison shared all these dis- 
comforts wnth his men. As he sat in the pouring rain, wrapped 
in his cloak, with his staff around him, he called upon one of his 
officers, who had a fine voice, to sing a humorous Irish song, with 
the chorus, — 

" Now's the time for mirth and glee : 
Sing and laugh and dance with rae." 

The troops joined in the refrain ; and thus, in that black night of 
storm and flood, the forest echoed with sounds of merriment. 

Gen. Harrison had succeeded in raising a force of about six 
thousand men. He soon became satisfied that Detroit could be 
taken only in a winter-campaign, when the vast morasses, being 
frozen, could be traversed by the army. His right wing was ren- 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 267 

dezvoused at Sandusky. About eight hundred men, under Gen. 
Winchester, marched to the mouth of the River Raisin, where they 
were attacked, routed, and compelled to surrender. All the 
wounded were massacred by the Indians. Dreadful was the suffer- 
ing that tLis disaster caused ; and it was along time before it could 
bo known wlio were prisoners, and who had fallen beneath the 
bloody knives of the savages. This unfortunate expedition had 
been undertaken without the knowledge of Gen. Harrison. Hav- 
ing heard of the movement, he did every thing in his power, but in 
vain, to avert the disastrous results. Nine hundred of the most 
promising young men of the North-west were lost in this melan- 
choly adventure. This was the latter part of January, 1813. 
Gen. Harrison, who had now received the appointment of major- 
general in the United-States army, found it necessary to go into 
winter-quarters ; though he fitted out three expeditions against 
the Indians, one only of which proved successful. 

The Government at length, urged by Gen. Harrison, prepared 
for the construction of a fleet to command the waters of the Lake. 
Gen. Harrison had an unstable body of men at Fort Meigs ; the 
enlistments being for short periods, and it being impossible to hold 
the men after the term of service iiad expired. The most arduous 
of Gen. Harrison's labors were his almost superhuman exertions 
to raise an army. In August of 1814, the Britisli, with their 
savage allies, appeared before Sandusky, which was protected by 
Fort Stephenson. They approached by their vessels along the 
lake, and also, with a land force, through the forest, followed by 
their howling allies. They were, however, after a stern battle, 
handsomely repulsed. On the 10th of September, Commodoro 
Perr}', with his gallant squadron, met the British fleet, and, at the 
close of an heroic struggle, had the pleasure of announcing that 
they were ours. Gen. Harrison was now prepared to carry the 
war home to the enemy. He crossed the lake, took possession 
of Sandwich, the British retreating before him ; and then sent a 
brigade across the strait, which seized Detroit. The British 
retreated up the Thames, pursued by the Americans. Proc 
tor led the British forces, and Tecumseh led his savage allies 
The foe made a stand on the banks of the Thames. The battle 
wxs short and decisive. Our dragoons rode impetuously over the 
ranks of the British, and compelled an almost instantaneous sur 
render. The Indians continued the fight a little longer, but were 



268 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

at length dispersed, leaving tlieir chief, Tecumseh, dead upon the 
field. All the stores of the British army fell into the hatds of the 
victors. 

Gen. Harrison won the love of his soldiers by always sharing 
with them their fatigue. His whole baggage, while pursuing 
the foe up the Thames, was carried in a valise ; and his bed- 
ding consisted of a single blanket lashed over his saddle. Tliirty- 
Sve British officers, his prisoners of war, supped with him after 
;he battle. The only fare he could give them was beef roasted 
before the fire, without bread or salt. 

This great victory gave peace to the North-western frontier ; and 
Gen. Harrison decided to send a large portion of his force to 
Niagara, to assist in repelling the foe, who were concentrating 
ther(3. Fifteen hundred men were transported by the fleet to 
Bufl'alo, which they reached on the 24th of October, 1814. 

In consequence of some want of harmony with the Secretary of 
War, Gen. Harrison resigned his commission, much to the regret 
of Pi'esident Madison : lie, however, still continued to be em- 
ployed in the service of his country. He was appointed to treat 
with the Indian tribes ; and he conducted the negotiations so skil- 
fully, as to secure the approbation both of the Indians and of the 
United-States Government. In 1816, Gen. Harrison was chosen 
a member of the National House of Representatives to represent 
the District of Ohio. It was not possible that a man who had 
occupied posts so responsible, who had often thwarted the at- 
tempted frauds of Government contractors, and who had defended 
the weak against the powerful, should not have some bitter 
enemies. In the contest which preceded his election toCongresSj 
he had been accused of corruption in respect to the commissariat 
of the army. Immediately upon taking his seat, he called for an 
investigation of the charge. A committee was appointed : his vin- 
dication was triumphant ; and a high compliment was paid to his 
patriotism, disinterestedness, and devotion to the public service. 
For these services, a gold medal was presented to him, with the 
thanks of Congress. 

In Congress he proved an active member ; and, whenever he 
spoke, it was with a force of reason, and power of eloquence, which 
ariested the attention of all the members. When the celebrated 
debate came up respecting the conduct cf Gen. Jackson during 
the Seminole war, he eloquently supported the resolutions of 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 2G9 

censure, while he paid a noble tribute to the patriotism and good 
intentions of the reckless and law-defying general. In the splen- 
did speech which he made upon this occasion, which was alike 
replete with eloquence, true philosophy, and the most exalted 
patriotism, he said, — 

" I am sure, sir, that it is not the intention of any gentleman 
upon this floor to rob Gen. Jackson of a single ray of glory ; much 
less to wound his feelings, or injure his reputation. If the resolu. 
tions pass, I would address him thus : ' In the performance of a 
sacred duty, imposed by their construction of the Constitution, 
the representatives of the people have found it necessary to disap- 
prove of a single act of your brilliant career. The}'^ have done it 
in the full conviction, that the hero who has guarded her rights in 
the field will bow with reverence to the civil institutions of his 
countr}' ; that he has admitted as his creed, that the character of 
the soldier can never be complete without eternal reverence 
to the character of the citizen. Go, gallant chief, and bear with you 
the gratitude of your country ; go, under the full conviction, that, 
as her glory is identified with yours, she has nothing more dear to 
her than her laws, nothing more sacred than her Constitution. Even 
an unintentional error shall be sanctified to her service. It will 
teach posterity that the Government which could disapprove the 
conduct of a Marcellus will have the fortitude to crush the vices 
of a Marius.' " 

Gen. Jackson was not a man to bear the slightest opposition. 
These noble sentiments, as uttered by Gen. Harrison, he never 
forgot or forgave. 

In 1819, Harrison was elected to the Senate of Ohio ; and in 1824, 
as one of the presidential electors of that State, he gave his voto 
for Henry Clay, and in the same year was chosen to the Senate 
of the United States. The half-crazed John Randolph made one of 
his characteristic attacks, virulent and senseless, accusing him of 
being a black-cockade Federalist, and of associating with gentle- 
men of that party. Mr. Harrison rose, and, with that dignified and 
attractive eloquence which he had at his command, said, — 

"I am seriously charged with the heinous ofience of associating 
with Federal gentlemen. I plead guilty. I respected the Revolu- 
tionary services of President John Adams, and have paid him that 
courtesy which was due to him as a man and as Chief Magistrate. 
I have also associated with such men as John Marshall and James 



270 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

A. Bayard. Is the acknowledgment of such guilt to throw me out 
of the pale of political salvation? 

"On the other hand, I am on intimate terms with Mr. Jefferson 
Mr. Gallatin, and the Avhole Virginia delegation, among whom I 
have many kinsmen and dear friends. These were my principal 
associates in Philadelphia, in whose mess I have often met the 
gentleman who is now my accuser, and with whom I have spent 
some of the happiest hours of my life. It is not in my nature to be 
a violent or prescriptive partisan; but I have given a firm support 
to the Republican administrations of Jefferson, Madison, and Mon- 
roe. I hope the senator from Virginia is answered." 

In the latter part of the year 1828, President John Quincy 
Adams appointed Gen. Harrison minister plenipotentiary to the 
Republic of Colombia; but Gen. Jackson, immediately after his in- 
auguration in 1829, implacably recalled him. While he was in Co- 
lombia, the proposition was agitated of laying aside the Constitution, 
and investing Bolivar with the dictatorship. Gen. Harrison ad. 
dressed a letter to Bolivar, who was his personal friend, entreating 
him not to accede to this arrangement. This document was written 
with so much elegance of diction, such glowing eloquence, and 
such enlightened statesmanship, as to secure the admiration of 
every one who read it. 

A few sentences only can we quote as specimens of the whole: — 

"A successful warrior is no longer regarded as entitled to the 
first place in the temple of fame. In this enlightened age, the hero 
of the field, and the successful leader of armies, vncxy, for the mo- 
ment, attract attention ; but it is such as will be bestowed upon 
the passing meteor, whose blaze is no longer remembered when it 
is no longer seen. To be esteemed eminently great, it is necessary 
to be eminently good. The qualities of the hero and the general 
must be devoted to the advantage of mankind before he will be 
permitted to assume the title of their benefactor. If the fame of 
our Washington depended upon his military achievements, would 
the common consent of the world allow him the pre-eminence he 
possesses? The victories at Trenton, Monmouth, and York, brilliant 
as they were, exhibiting, as they certainly did, the highest grade 
of military talents, are scarcely thought of. The source of the 
veneration and esteem which are entertained for his character by 
every class of politicians — the monarchist and aristocrat, as well aa 
the republican — is to be found in his undeviating and exclusive 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 271 

devotedness to liis country. No selfish consideration wa? ever 
suftered to intrude itself into his mind. General, the course which 
he pursued is open to you ; and it depends upon yourself to attain 
the eminence which he has reached before you." 

Upon Gen. Harrison's return from Colombia to the United 
States, he retired to his farm at North Bend, on the Ohio, and, 
in the enjoyment of a humble competency, devoted himself to 
the peaceful pursuits of agriculture. With true Roman dignity, 
lie accepted the office of clerk to the court of Hamilton County^as 
a means of adding to his limited income. In 1831, he was chosef< 
to give the annual discourse before the agricultural society of 
that county. 

Gen. Harrison had once owned a distillery ; but, perceiving the 
sad efiects of whiskey upon the surrounding population, he promptly 
abandoned the business, at a very considerable pecuniary sacrifice. 
In his very admirable address, he, with great fervor and eloquence, 
entreats his brother-farmers not to convert their corn into that 
poison which was found so deadly both to the body and to the 
soul, " I speak more freely," said he, " of the practice of con- 
verting the material of the stafi" of life into an article which is 
80 destructive of health and happiness, because, in that way, 1 
have sinned myself; but in that way I shall sin no more." 

The subject of slavery was at this time fearfully agitating our 
land. Gen. Harrison, though very decidedly opposed to any 
interference on the part of the General Government with slavery 
as it existed in the States, was still the warm friend of universal 
freedom. In replying to the accusation of being friendly to 
slaver}', he said, — 

" From my earliest youth, and to the present moment, 1 have 
been the ardent friend of human liberty. At the age of eighteen, 
I became a member of an abolition society established at Rich- 
mond, Va., the object of which was to ameliorate the condition of 
slaves, and procure their freedom by every legal means. The 
obligations which I then came under I have faithfully performed. 
I have been the means of liberating many slaves, but never placed 
one in bondage. I was the first person to introduce into Congress 
the proposition, that all the country above Missouri should never 
have slavery admitted into it." 

Again : the high Christian integrity of this noble man is devel- 
oped in the reply to a letter from a gentleman wishing to know 



272 LIVES OF THE PhESIDENTS. 

his views upon the subject of duelling. The whole letter was ad- 
mirable, and was one of the most effective attacks upon that 
absurd and barbarous system that has ever been made. In con- 
clusion, he says, — 

" In relation to my present sentiments, a sense of higher obliga- 
tions than human laws or human opinions can impose has deter- 
mined me never on any occasion to accept a challenge, or seek 
redress for a personal injury, by a resort to the laws which com- 
pose the code of honor." 

In 1836, the friends of Gen. Harrison brought him forward as a 
candidate for the presidency. Mr. Van Buren was the Adminis- 
tration candidate, supported by the almost omnipotent influence 
of Gen. Jackson. The opposition party could not unite, and four 
candidates were brought forward ; but the canvass disclosed the 
popularity of Gen. Harrison, as he received seventy-three electo- 
ral votes without any general concert among his friends. The 
Democratic party triumphed over their disorganized opponents, 
and Mr. Van Buren was chosen president. 

At the close of Mr. Van Buren's four years of service, he was 
renominated by his party, and William Henry Harrison was unani- 
mously nominated by the Whigs, by a convention in which twenty- 
three out of the twenty-six States were represented. John Tyler, 
of Virginia, was nominated for the vice-presidency. The contest, 
as usual, was very animated. Gen. Jackson gave all his influence 
to prevent Gen. Harrison's election ; but his triumph was signal. 
He received two hundred and thirty-four electoral voios, leaving 
but sixty for Mr. Van Buren. He was then sixty-seven years of 
age. It may be doubted if any of his predecessors had taken the 
presidential chair better prepared for its responsibilities, in ability, 
education, experience, and immaculate integrity, than was Wil- 
liam Henry Harrison. 

His passage from his plain home to the Capitol presented a 
constant succession of brilliant pageants and enthusiastic greet- 
ings. 

A vast concourse attended his inauguration. His address on 
the occasion was in accordance with his antecedents, and gave 
great satisfaction ; expressing the fear that we were in danger 
of placing too much power in the haads of the President, and 
declaring his intention of exercising the powers intrusted to 
him with great moderation. 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 273 

The cabinet which he formed, with Daniel Webster at its head 
as Secretary of State, was one of the most brilliant with which any 
President had ever been surrounded. Never were the prospects 
of an administration more flattering, or the hopes of the country 
more sanguine. In the midst of these bright and joyous prospects, 
Gen. Harrison was seized by a pleurisy-fever, and, after a few days 
of violent sickness, died on the 4th of April ; just one short month 
after his inauguration. In the delirium of his sickness, as if aware 
that death was approaching, and fancying that he was addressing 
his successor, he said, — 

" Sir, I wish you to understand the principles of the Govern- 
ment : I wish them carriod out. I ask nothing more." 

These were his last words. His death was universally regarded 
as one of the greatest of national calamities. The nation mourned 
with unfeigned grief. Never, then, since the death of Washing- 
ton, vvere there, throughout our land, such demonstrations of sor- 
row. A careful scrutiny of his character and life must give him 
a high position in the affection and the esteem of every intelligent 
mind. Not one single spot can be found to sully the brightness 
of his fame ; and, through all the ages, Americans will pronounce 
witJi love and reverence the name of William Henry Harrison. 

86 



CHAPTER X. 



JOHN TYLER. 



His Parentage. — Education and Scholarship. — Early Distinctioa. — Suocesa ai tiio .^ir at^ 
in Political Life. — Democratic Principles. — Course in the Senate. — Elected Vioe- 
President. — Accession to the Presidency. — False Position, and Embarrassment*. — 
Retirement from Office. — Joins in the Rebellion. -- Death. 



JoBN Tyler was the favored child of affluence and high social 
position. His father possessed large landed estates in Virp-inia 




ItESIDENCE OF JOHN TYLEI!. 



and was one of the most distinguished men of his day; filhr^; ;-;ie 
oflBces of Speaker of the House of Delegates, Jadge ..>£ ih.- Su- 
preme Court, and Governor of the State. John .rae born in 
Charles-oity County, Va., the 29th of March, 1790. He enjoyed. 

274 



JOHN TYLEE. 275 

in his youthful vears, all the advantages which ivealth and |.aren' 
U\\ distinction coald confer. At the early age of twelve, he en- 
tered William and Mary College ; and graduated, with much honor, 
when but seventeen years old. His commencement address, upon 
" Female Education," was pronounced to be a very masterly per- 
formance. After graduating, he devoted himself with great 
Q.psiduity to the study of the law, partly with his father, and 
partly with Edmund Randolph, one of the most distinguished law- 
yers of Tirginia. 

At nineteen years of age, he commenced the practice of the 
.aw. His success was rapid and astonishing. It is said that 
three months had not elapsed ere there was scarcely a case on 
the do'jket of the court in which he was not retained. When but 
twenty-one years of age, he was almost unanimously elected to a 
seat in the State Legislature. He connected himself with the 
Democratic party, and warmly advocated the measures of Jeffer- 
son and Madison. For five successive years, he was elected 
to the Legislature, receiving nearly the unanimous vote of his 
county. 

Sympathizing cordially with the Administration in the second 
war with Englar :^., when the British were ravaging the shores of 
Chesapeake Bay he szerted himself strenuously to raise a mili- 
tary force to resis!. '^hem. When but twenty-six years of age, he 
was elected a member of Congress, Here he acted earnestly and 
ably with the Democratic party, opposing a national bank, inter- 
nal improvements by the General Government, a protective 
tariff, and advocating a strict construction of the Constitution, 
and the most careful vigilance over State rights. His labors in 
Congress were f:o arduous, that, before the cloce of his second 
term, he found it necessary to resign, and rsi.ire to his estate in 
Charles County to recruit his health. 

He. however, soon after consented to take n:s seat in the State 
Legislature, where his influence was powerful in promoting public 
works of great utility. Many of his speeches developed states- 
manlike views, and powers of eloquence of a high order. With a 
reputation thus constantly incie-iising, he was chosen by a very 
large majority of votes, in 1825, governor of his native State, — 
a high honor ; for Virginia had many able men to be competitors 
for the prize. His administration was signally a successful one. 
He urged forward internal improvements, strove to remove sec- 



276 UVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

tional jealousies, and did much to rouse the people to an appre- 
ciation of their own interests. His popularity secured his 
re-election. 

John Randolph, a brilliant, erratic, half-crazed man, then repre- 
sented Virginia in the Senate of the United States. A portion 
of the Democratic party was displeased with Mr. Randolph's way- 
ward course, and brought forward John Tyler as his opponent ; 
considering him the only man in Virginia of sufficient popularity 
to succeed against the renowned orator of Roanoke. Mr. Tyler 
was the victor; and, in taking his seat in the Senate, he said to 
his Democratic constituents, — 

" The principles on which I have acted, without abandonment 
in any one instance, for the last sixteen years, in Congress, and in 
the legislative hall of this State, will be the principles by which 
I shall regulate my future political life." 

John Quincy Adams was then President of the United States, 
having been placed in that office by the Whigs. Mr. Tyler, imme- 
diately upon his election, declared, in a public letter, his uncom- 
promising hostility to the principles of Mr. Adams's administra- 
tion. 

" In his message to Congress," wrote Mr. Tyler, " I saw an 
almost total disregard of the federative principle, a more latitudi- 
narian construction of the Constitution than has ever before been 
insisted on. From the moment of seeing that message, all who 
have known any thing of me have known that I stood distinctly 
opposed to this administration." 

In accordance with these professions, upon taking his seat in 
the Senate, he joined the ranks of the opposition. He opposed 
the tariff; ho spoke against and voted against the bank, as un- 
constitutional ; he strenuously opposed all restrictions upon 
slavery, resisted all projects of internal improvements by the 
General Government, and avowed his sympathy with Mr. Cal- 
houn's views of nullification ; he declared that Gen. Jackson, by 
his opposition to the nulUfiers, had abandoned the principles of 
the Democratic party. Such was Mr. Tyler's record in Congress, — 
a record in perfect accordance with the principles which he had 
always avowed. 

Perhaps there was never hate more unrelenting than that with 
which John C. Calhoun and Andrew Jackson regarded each other. 
Mr. Tyler was in sympathy with Mr. Calhoun ; voted with him ; 



JOHN TYLER. ITi 

STid it thus happened that Mr. Tyler was found in opposition to 
Jackson's administration. This hostility to Jackson caused Mr. 
Tyler's retirement from the Senate, after his election to a second 
term. The Legislature of Virginia passed resolutions, caUing upon 
their senators in Congress to vote to expunge from the journal of 
the Senate a vote censuring Gen. Jackson for his usurpation 
of power in removing the deposits of public money from the 
United-States Bank, and placing them in State banks. Mr. Tyler 
had cordially approved of this censure, avowing his convictions 
that Gen. Jackson had usurped powers which the Constitution 
did not confer upon him. He had also very emphatically expressed 
lis belief that it was the duty of the representative to obey the 
directions of his constituents. Under these circumstances, he 
felt constrained to resign bis seat. 

Returning to Virginia, he resumed the practice of his profes- 
sion. There was r^ split in the Democratic party. His friends 
rtdll regarded i^im ar. a true Jeffersonian, gave him a public dinner, 
and showered compliments upon him. He had now attained the 
age of forty-six. His career had been very brilliant. In conse- 
quence of his devotion to public business, his private affairs had 
fallen rnto some disorder ; and it was not without satisfaction that 
he resumed the practice of the law, and devoted himself to the 
iulture of his plantation. 

Soon after this, he removed to Williamsburg, for the better edu- 
lation of hia children ; and again took his seat in the Legislature 
:.f Virginia. He had thus far belonged very decidedly to the 
Calboun or Stated-rights party. The complicatiojis of party in 
"his country ar3 inexplicable. There have been so many diverse 
and clashing mterosts, the same name being often used in differ- 
ent sections to rspro^ent almost antagonistic principles, that one 
need not be surprise 1 to find Mr. Tyler, without any change of 
viewc, taking the name of a Southern Whig, still opposing the 
tariff, the bank, and advocating, to the fullest extent. State righted. 
He was still what ihe North would call a Democrat. 

By th.". Southern Whigs, he was sent to the national conven- 
tion at Harrisburg to nominate a President in 1839. The majori- 
ty of votes was given to Gen. Harrison, a genuine Whig, much 
to the disappointment of the South, who wished for Henry Clay. 
To conciliate the Southern Whigs, and to secure their vote, the 
convention then nominated John Tyler for Vice-President. It 



278 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was well known that he was not in sympathy with the Whig 
parly in the North : but the Yice-President has but very little 
power in the Government; his main and almost only duty being to 
preside over the meetings of the Senate. Thus it happened that 
a Whig President, and, in reality, a Democratic Vice-President, 
were chosen. 

Tn 1841, Mr. Tyler was inaugurated Vice-President of the 
United States. In one short month from that time, President 
Harrison died; and Mr. Tyler thus found himself, to his own sur- 
prise and that of the whole nation, an occupant of the presi- 
dential chair. This was a new test of the stability of our institu- 
tions, as it was the first time in the history of our country that 
such m event had occurred. Mr. Tyler was at his home ir. 
Williamsburg Avhen he received the unexpected tidings of the 
death of President Harrison. He hastened to Washington, and; 
on the 6th of April, was inaugurated into his high and responsible 
oflSce. He was placed in a position of exceeding delicacy and 
difficulty. All his life long, he had been opposed to the main 
principles of the party which had brought him into power. He 
had ever been a consistent, honest man, with an unblemished 
record. Gen. Harrison had selected a Whig cabinet. Should he 
retain them, and thus surround himself with counsellors whose 
views were antagonistic to his own? or, on the other hand, shoulc. 
he turn against the party which had elected him, and select r- 
cabinet in harmony with himself, and which would oppose all those 
views which the Whigs deemed essential to the public welfare ? 
This was his fearful dilemma. 

President Tyler deserves more charity than he has received. 
He issued an address to the people, carefully worded, whi3h gave 
general satisfaction. He invited the cabinet which President 
Harrison had selected to retain their seats. He recommended a 
day of fasting and prayer, that God would guide and bless us. 

The Whigs carried through Congress a bill for the incorporation 
of the fiscal bank of the United States. The President, after 
ten days' delay, returned it with his veto. He suggested, how- 
ever, that he would approve of a bill drawn up upon such a 
plan as he proposed. Such a bill was accordingly prepared, 
and privately submitted to him. He gave it his approval. 
It was passed without alteration, and he sent it back with his 
veto. Here commenced the open rupture. It is said that Mi. 



JOHN TYLER. 279 

Tyler was provoked to this measure by a published letter from 
the Hon. John M. Botts, a distinguished Virginia Whig, containing 
the following sentences, which severely touched the pride of the 
President: — 

'' Capt. Tyler la nahing a desperate effort to set himself up with 
the Locofocos: bu; hs'll be headed yet; and I regret to say that it 
will end badly for l.im. He will be an object of execration with 
both parties, — with the one, for vetoing our bill, which was bad 
enough ; with the other, for signing a worse one : but he is hardly 
entitled to sympathy. You'll get a bank bill, but one that will 
serve only to far:t?3 him, and to which no stock will be subscribed; 
and, when he finds out that he is not wiser in banking than all the 
rest of the world, we may get a better." 

The opposition now exultingly received the President into their 
aT-ms. The party which elected him denounced him bitterly. All 
the members of his cabinet, excepting Mr. Webster, resigned. 
The Whigs of Congress, both the Senate and the House, held a 
meeting, and issued an address to the people of the United States, 
proclaiming that all political alliance between the Whigs and 
President Tyler was at an end. 

Still the President attempted to conciliate. He appointed a 
new cabinet of distinguished Whigs and Conservatives, carefully 
leaving out all strong party men. Though opposed to a protec- 
tive tariff, he gave his sanction to a tariff-bill, which paiised Con- 
gress. Thus he placed himself in a position in which he found 
that he could claim the i^upport of neither party. The Democrats 
had a majority in the House ; the Whigs, in the Senate. Mr. Web- 
ster soon found ii necesGary to resign, forced out by the pressure 
of hip Whig friends. 

Thus the four years of Mr. Tyler's unfortunate administration 
parsed sadly away. No one was satisfied. The land was filled 
with murmurs and vituperation. Whigs and Democrats alike 
Efisailpd him. More and more, however, he brought himself into 
sympathy Avith his old friends the Democrats ; until, at the close 
of his term, he gave his whole influence to the support of Mr. 
Polk, the Democratic candidate, for his successor. Several very 
important measures were adopted during his administration. 
Situated as he was, it is more than can be expected of human 
nature that he sliould, in all cases, have acted in the wisest man- 
ner ; but it will probably be the verdict of all candid men, in a care* 



280 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

ful levinw of his career, that John Tyler was placed in a position 
of such exceeding difficulty, that he could not pursue any course 
which would not expose him to the most severe denunciation. 

Mr. Tyler earnestly and eloquently opposed any protective 
tariff. In glowing periods he depicted the abounding prosperity 
of the North, and the dilapidation and decay of the South. The 
fact no one could deny, that the North was bounding forward in 
the most brilliant career of prosperity, while the South presented 
a general aspect of paralysis and desolation. " The protective 
tariff," said Mr. Tyler, " is the cause of our calamities and our de- 
cay. We buy dear, and sell cheap. That is the simple secret. 
The tariff raises the price of all we buy, and diminishes the de- 
mands for our products abroad by diminishing the power of foreign 
nations to buy them." 

The reply to this cannot be better given than in the words of 
Mr. Parton, in his " Life of Andrew Jackson : " " The Southern sys- 
tem — be it wrong or be it right, be it wise or be it unwise — is 
one that does not attract emigrants ; and the Northern system 
does. That is the great cause. From the hour when Columbus 
sprang, exulting, upon these Western shores, the great interest ol 
America has been emigration. That country of the New World 
has prospered most which has attracted the greatest number of 
the best emigrants by affording them the best chance to attaii^ 
the sole object of emigration, — the improvement of their condiiion; 
and that portion of that country has outstripped the rest which 
offered to emigrants the most promising field of labor. For a mak, 
view him in what light you may, is the most precious thing in the 
world : he is wealth in its most concentrated form. A stalwart, 
virtuous, skilful, thoughtful man, progenitor of an endless lino of 
such, planted in our Western wilds to hew out home and fDrtune 
with his own glorious and beautiful right hand and heart, is wore-:., 
to the State that wins him, a thousand times his weight in Kohi- 
nor. Such have poured into the Northern States, in an abounding 
flood, these fifty years. Behold what they have wrought ! 

" Such emigrants go to the South in inconsiderable aumber s, 
partly because from infancy they learn to loathe the very name of 
slavery. They sicken at the thought of it. They shrink from 
contact with it. They take Wesley's characterization of it in the 
most literal acceptation of the words, and esteem it the sum of all 
villanies, — that solely possible crime which includes in its single 



JOHN TYLER. 281 

5elf all the wrong that man can wreak on man. Whether they are 
rigb/"; or whether they are wrong in so thinking, is not a question 
here. They think so ; and, if they did not, they would not go in 
great uumbers to the South, because it does not afford to a man 
with sis children and a hundred dollars the immediate opportuni- 
ties for profitable and congenial labor which the North affords. 
On thi) prairies, in the forests of the North, the struggling emi- 
grant finds himself surrounded by neighbors whose condition, 
antecedents, prospects, social standing, are all similar to his own. 
There is no great proprietor to overtop him. There is no slave 
with whom he has to compete. He forgets that there is any such 
thing as a graduated social scale, and feels, that, by virtue of his 
manhood alone, he stands on a level with the best." 

It has been well said, that nothing is ever settled in this world 
until it is settled right. There can be no peace, and no abiding 
prosperity, until the brotherhood of man is recognized. True 
democracy demands impartial suffrage and equal rights for all; 
and, if any thing be certain, this is certain, — that true democracy 
will never rest content until this shall be attained. Whoever, 
t^iorefore, places himself in opposition to this fundamental princi- 
ple of true democracy, does but perpetuate conflict, and postpone 
the long-looked-for hour when the bitter strife of parties shall 
cease. It is in vain for the demon of aristocracy and of exclusive 
privilege to clothe itself in the garb of democracy, and assume its 
sacred name. The masses cannot long be thus deceived, and 
those defrauded of their rights will not acquiesce unresistingly. 

It is not slavery alone which saps the foundations of public 
prosperity : it is any attempt to keep any portion of the people 
ignorant and degraded, and deprived of privileges conferred upon 
others no more deserving. This was the political vice of JohL 
Tyler and his associates. They strained every nerve to keep 
millions of their fellow-countrymen in the South in a state of the 
most abject servility, ignorance, and degradation ; and then, as 
they looked around upon the general aspect of rags, impoverish- 
ment, and degradation in the South, and contrasted it with the 
beauty and wealth and power of those States in the North where 
every man was encouraged to feel himself a man, and to educate 
to the highest possible degree his children, and to surround his 
home with every embellishment which taste and industry could 
create, they refused to admit the true cause for the difference. 

36 



282 LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 

In a beautiful strain of philosophic truth, the Hon. Mr. DaLas 
said in the Senate of the United States, in a debate upon this sub- 
ject in 1862, " The lights of science and the improvements of art, 
which vivify and accelerate elsewhere, cannot penetrat'; or, if 
they do, penetrate with dilatory inefficiency, among the operatives 
of the South. They are merely instinctive and passive. While 
the intellectual industry of other parts of this country springs 
elastically forward at every fresh impulse, and manual labor is 
propelled and redoubled by countless inventions, machineo, and 
contrivances, instantly understood and at once exercised, the 
South remains stationary, inaccessible to such encouraging and 
invigorating aids. Nor is it possible to be blind to the moral 
effects of this species of labor upon those freemen among whom it 
exists. A disrelish for humble and hardy occupaticr^ a pride 
adverse to drudgery and toil, a dread that to partake in the em- 
ployments allotted to color may be accompanied also by its degra- 
tion, are natural and inevitable. 

" When, in fact, the senator from South Carolina asserts that 
* slaves are too improvident, too incapable of that minute, con- 
stant, delicate attention, and that persevering industry, which are 
essential to the success of manufacturing establishments,' he hiia- 
self admits the defect in the condition of Southern labor by wliiob 
the progress of his favorite section must be retarded. He admits 
an inability to keep pace with the rest of the world. He admits an 
inherent weakness, — a weakness neither engendered nor aggra- 
vated by the tariff." 

These views, now that slavery is dead, are as practically impor- 
tant as ever ; for they do conclusively show that it is one of the 
first principles of political economy that there should not be fos- 
tered in any community a servile and degraded class ; that it 
should be the first endeavor of the State to inspire every individ- 
ual, without a single exception, with the ambition to make the 
most of himself, intellectually, physically, and morally, that he pos- 
sibl}" can. Every facility should be presented, which wisdom can 
devise, to promote this elevation of the whole community. Every- 
where a poor, ignorant, degraded family is an element of weak- 
ness and impoverishment. But Mr. T3der, from the beginning to 
the end of his career, Avas the earnest advocate of slavery, — of its 
perpetuation and extension. 

On the 4th of March, 1845, he retired from the harassments of 



JOHN TYLER. 283 

office, to the regret of neither party, and probably to his own un- 
speakable relief. His first wife, Miss Letitia Christian, died in 
Washington in 1842; and in June, 1844, President Tyler was again 
married, at New York, to Miss Julia Gardiner, a young lady of 
many personal and intellectual accomplishments. 

The remainder of his days Mr. Tyler passed mainly in retirement 
at his beautiful home, — Sherwood Forest, Charles-city County, 
Ya. A polished gentleman in his manners, richly furnished with 
information from books and experience in the world, and pos- 
sessing brilliant powers of conversation, his family circle was 
the scene of unusual attractions. With sufficient means for the 
exercise of a generous hospitality, he might have enjoyed a serene 
old age with the few friends who gathered around him, were it 
not for the storms of civil war which his own principles and policy 
had helped to introduce. 

When the Great Rebellion rose, which the State-rights and nulli- 
fying doctrines of Mr. John C. Calhoun had inaugurated, President 
Tyler renounced his allegiance to the United States, and joined 
the Confederates. He was chosen a member of their Congress ; and 
while engaged in active measures to destroy, by force of arms, 
the Government over which he had once presided, he was taken 
sick, and, after a short illness, died. There were but few to weep 
over his grave, excepting his own family, to whom he was much 
endeared, and the limited circle of his personal friends. His last 
hours must have been gloomy; for he could not conceal from him- 
self that the doctrines which he had advocated were imperilling 
the very existence of the nation. Unfortunately for his memor}', 
the name of John Tyler must forever be associated with all the 
misery and crime of that terrible Rebellion whose cause he openly 
espoused. It is with sorrow that history records that a President 
of the United States died while defending the flag of rebellion, 
which was arrayed in deadly warfare against that national banner 
which he had so often sworn to protect. 



CHAPTER XI. 

JAMES KNOX POLK. 

AiiMstry of Mr. Polk. - His Early Distinction. - His Success as a Lawyer ~ PoUticiil LL's. 
Tonl Service in Congress. - Speaker in the House. - Governor of . enn....Dce. ~ 
InSte-PolitL' Views.-Te.as Annexation. - CancUdate for ^h. .r.s.l.noy- 
-Mexican War.-Its Object and Results. - Retirement. - Sickness. - ...oto. 

Near the south-we stern frontier of North Carolina, or tha east^ 
em banks of the Catawba, there is a region now C9.lltji the 




EESIDE>Cl!. Vb JAMi-b K 1 OLK 

County of Mecklenburg. In this remote, almos--. ^jnexplo^^^ 
wilderness, a small settlement was commenced by the bcotcn- 
Irish in the year 1735. Among thes3 settlers, t- ore were two 
brothers by the name of Polk. Both of them were nen of much 



284 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 285 

excellence of character and of extensive influence. Early in the 
spring of 1775, news reached those distant settlers beneath the 
primeval forest of the atrocities which the crown of Great Britain 
was perpetrating against the liberties of this country, in Massa- 
chusetts. There were several public meetings held to discuss 
these wrongs. 

At length, Col. Thomas Polk, the elder of these brothers, " well 
known and well acquainted in the surrounding counties, a man 
of great excellence and merited popularity," was empowered to 
call a convention of the representatives of the people. Col. Polk 
issvsd his summons ; and there was a convention in Charlotte, the 
shire-town of the county, held on the 19th of May, 1775. About 
forty of the principal citizens of the county of Mecklenburg were 
present as delegates. At this meeting, the announcement was 
made, that the first blood of the Revolution had been shed in 
Lexington, Mass. The excitement was intense. Anxious delib- 
erations were protracted late into the night, and resumed the 
next morning. People were, in the mean time, rapidly gathering 
in large numbers. Resolutions were at length adopted unani- 
?3ious]y, which were read from the court-house steps by Col. 
Polk, declaring that "we, the citizens of Mecklenburg County, 
do hereby dissolve the political bands which have connected us 
to the mother-country, and hereby absolve ourselves from all alle- 
giance to the British crown ; and that we do hereby declare our- 
selves a free and independent people." 

This heroic and extraordinary declaration of independence was 
unquestionably the first that was made. Col. Thomas Polk, and 
his brother Ezekiel, who resided then across the border, in South 
Carolina, were among the most prominent, men in this movement. 
In the course of the war which ensued, Lord Cornwallis estab- 
lished his headquarters at Charlotte, which he called the hot-bed 
of rebellion, and the hornet's nest. But little more is knowii re- 
specting Ezekiel Polk, who was the grandfather of James Knox 
Polk, the eleventh President of the United States. He left a 
son, Samuel, who married Jane Knox. Samuel Polk was a plain, 
unpretending farmer. James was the eldest son of a family of six 
sons and four daughters. He was born in Mecklenburg County, 
N.C., on the 2d of November, 1795. 

In the yaar 1806, with his wife and children, and soon after 
followed by most of the members of the Polk family, Samuel Polk 



286 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

emigrated some two or three hundred miles farther west to the 
rich valley of the Duck River. Here in the midst of the wilder- 
ness, in a region which was subsequently called Maury County, 
they reared their log huts, and established their new home. In 
the hard toil of a new farm in the wilderness, James K. Polk 
spent the early years of his childhood and his youth. His father, 
adding the pursuits of a surveyor to that of a farmer, gradually 
increased in wealth until he became one of the leading men of the 
region. His mother was a superior woman, of strong common 
sense and earnest piety. Young James often accompanied his 
father on his surveying tours, and was frequently absent from 
home for weeks together, climbing the mountains, threading the 
defiles, exposed to all the vicissitudes of the weather, and not a 
little in peril from hostile Indians. To a boy of reflective spirit, 
there is much in such a life to bring out all there is noble in his 
nature. 

Very early in life, James developed a taste for reading, and 
expressed the strongest desire to obtain a liberal education. His 
mother's training had rendered him methodical in his habits, had 
taught him punctuality and industry, and had inspired him with 
lofty principles of morality. James, in the common schools, 
rapidly became a proficient in all the common branches of an Eng- 
lish education. His health was frail ; and his father, fearing that 
he might not be able to endure a sedentary life, got a situation 
for him behind the counter, hoping to fit him for commercial 
pursuits. 

This was to James a bitter disappointment. He had no taste 
for these duties, and his daily tasks were irksome in the extreme. 
He remained in this uncongenial occupation but a few weeks, 
when, at his earnest solicitation, his father removed him, and made 
arrangements for him to prosecute his studies. Soon after, he 
sent him to Murfreesborough Academy. This was in 1813. With 
ardor which could scarcely be surpassed, hs pressed forward in 
his studies, and in less than two and a half years, in the autumn 
of 1815, entered the sophomore class in the University of North 
Carolina, at Chapel Hill. Here he was one of the most exemplary 
of scholars, so punctual in every exercise, never allowing himself 
to be absent from a recitation or a religious service, that one of 
the wags of college, when he wished to aver the absolute cer- 
tainty of any thing, was in the habit of saying, "It is as certain 
as that Polk will get up at the first call." 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 28V 

To every branch of a solid and an accomplished education he 
alike devoted his energies. He graduated in 1818 with the high- 
est honors, being deemed the best scholar of his class, both in 
liiathematics and the classics. He was then twenty-three years 
of age. Mr. Polk's health was at that time much impaired by the 
assiduity with which he had prosecuted his studies. After a 
short season of relaxation, he went to Nashville, and entered the 
office of Felix Grundy to study law. Mr. G-rundy was a man of 
national fame, not only standing at the head of the bar in Nash- 
ville, but having also distinguished himself on the floor of Con- 
gress. Here Mi. Polk renewed his acquaintance with Andrew 
Jackson, who i-. sided on his plantation, the Hermitage, but a 
i&w miles fro.a. Nashville. They had probably been slightly ac- 
quainted before. When Mrs. Jackson, with her two orphan boys, 
fled before the army of Cornwallis, she took refuge in Mecklen- 
burg County, and for some time resided with the neighbor^ of 
Mr. Polk's father. 

As soon as he had finished his legal studies, and been admitted 
to the bar, he returned to Columbia, the shire-town of Maury 
County, and opened an office. His success was rapid. Very sel- 
dom has any young man commenced the practice of the lav."- more 
thoroughly prepared to meet all of its responsibilities. With rich 
stores of information, ah his faculties well disciplined, and with 
habits of close and accurate reasoning, he rapidly gained business, 
and won fame. 

Mr. Polk's father was a Jeffersonian Republican, and James K. 
Polk ever adhered to the same political faith. He was a popular 
public speaker, and was constantly called upon to address the 
meetings of his party friends. His skill as a speaker was such, 
that he was popularly called the Napoleon of the stump. He was 
a man of unblemished morals, genial and courteous in his bear- 
ing, and with that sj'^mpathetic nature in the joys and griefs of 
others which ever gave him troops of friends. There is scarcely 
any investment which a man can make in this world so profitable 
as pleasant words and friendly smiles, provided always that those 
words and smiles come honestly from the heart. In 1823, Mr. 
Polk was elected to the Legislature of Tennessee. Here he gave 
his strong influence towards the election of his friend, Andrew 
Jackson, to the presidency of the United States. He also pro* 
cured the passage of a law designed to prevent duelling. From 



288 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

principle, he was utterly opposed to the practice ; and it required 
no little moral courage for one, in those rude times and regions, 
to attempt the abrogation of that so-called " code of honor," obedi- 
ence to which was deemed essential to the character of a chival- 
ric gentleman. 

Mr. Polk, as a " strict constructionist," did not think that the 
Constitution empowered the General Government to carry on a 
system of internal improvements in the States ; but, with Mr. 
Monroe, he deemed it important that the Government should have 
that power, and wished to have the Constitution amended that it 
might be conferred. Subsequently, however, with most of the 
Southern gentlemen, he became alarmed lest the General Govern- 
ment should become so strong as to undertake to interfere with 
slavery. He therefore gave all his influence to strengthen the 
State governments, and to check the growth of the central 
power. 

In January, 1824, Mr. Polk married Miss Sarah Childress of 
Rutherford County, Tenn. His bride was altogether worthy 
of him, — a lady of beauty and of culture. Had some one then 
whispered to him ihat he was destined to become President of the 
United States, and that he should select for his companion one who 
would adorn that distinguished station, he could not have made a 
more fitting choice. The following anecdote is related of Mrs. 
Polk, when, in 1848, she was lady of the White House. It should 
be remembered that Mr. Polk was a Democrat, and Mr. Clay a 
Whig, and that they had been rival candidates for the presidency. 
There was quite a brilliant dinner-party at the Presidents. 
Henry Cla^ as one of the most distinguished guests, was honored 
with a seat near Mrs. Polk, who as usual, by her courteous and 
affable manner, won the admiration of all her guests. 

During the entertainment, Mr. Clay turned to her, and said, in 
those winning tones so peculiar to him, — 

" Madam, I must say, that in my travels, wherever I have been, 
in all companies and among all parties, I have heard but one opin- 
ion of you. All agree in commending, in the highest terms, your 
excellent administration of the domestic affairs of the White 
House. But," continued he, looking towards her husband, " as 
for that young gentleman there, I cannot say as much. There is 
tsome little difference of opinion in regard to the policy of his 
oourse." 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 289 

" Indeed," said Mrs. Polk, "I am glad to hear that my adminis- 
tration is popular ; and, in return for your compliment, I will 
say, that, if the country should elect a Whig next fall, I know of 
no one whose elevation would please me more than that of Henry 
Clay. And I will assure you of one thing : if you do have occa- 
sion to occupy the White House on the 4th of March next, it 
shall be surrendered to you in perfect order from garret to 
cellar." 

"Thank you, thank you ! " exclaimed Mr. Clay : " I am certain 
that" — No more could be heard, such a burst of laughter fid- 
lowed Mrs. Polk's happy repartee. In the fall of 1825, Mr. Polk 
was chosen a member of Congress. The satisfaction which he 
gave to his constituents may be inferred from the fact, that for 
fourteen successive years, until 1839, he was continued in that 
office. He then voluntarily withdrew, only that he might accept 
the gubernatorial chair of his native State. In Congress he was 
a laborious member, a frequent and a popular speaker. He 
was always in his seat, always courteous ; and, whenever he spoke, 
it was always to the point, and without any ambitious rhetorical 
display. Mr. Polk was the warm friend of Gen. Jackson, who 
had been defeated in the electoral contest by John Quincy 
Adams. This latter gentleman had just taken his seat in the 
presidential chair when Mr. Polk took his seat in the House of 
Representatives. He immediately united himself with the oppo- 
nents of Mr. Adams, and was soon regarded as the leader of the 
Jackson party in the House. 

The four years of Mr. Adams's administration passed away, and 
Gen. Jackson took the presidential chair. Mr. Polk had now be- 
come a man of great influence in Congress, and ^yas chairman of 
its most important committee, — that of Ways and Means. Elo- 
quently he sustained Gen. Jackson in all of his measures, — in his 
hostility to internal improvements, to the bank, to the tariff. The 
eight years of Gen. Jackson's administration ended, and the 
powers he had wielded passed into the hands of Martin Van 
Buren ; and still Mr. Polk remained in the House, the advocate of 
.that type of Democracy which those distinguished men upheld. 

During five sessions of Congress, Mr. Polk was Speaker of the 
House. Strong passions were roused, and stormy scenes were 
witnessed ; but Mr. Polk performed his arduous duties to very 
general satisfaction, and a unanimous vote of thanks to him wae 

87 



290 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

passed by the House as he withdrew on the 4th of March, 1839. 
In his closiug address, he said, — 

" When I look back to the period when I first took my seat in 
this House, and then look around me for those who were at that 
time my associates here, I find but few, very few, remaining. 
But five members who were here with me fourteen years ago 
continue to be members of this body. My service here has been 
constant and laborious. I can perhaps say what few others, if 
any, can, — that I have not failed to attend the daily sittings of this 
House a single day since I have been a member of it, save on a 
pingle occasion, when prevented for a short time by indispo- 
bition. In my intercourse with the members of this body, when I 
occupied a place upon the floor, though occasionally engaged in 
debates upon interesting public questions and of an exciting 
character, it is a source of unmingled gratification to me to recur 
to the fact, that on no occasion was there the slightest personal 
or unpleasant collision with any of its members." 

In accordance with Southern usage, Mr. Polk, as candidate for 
governor, canvassed the State. He was elected by a large 'ma- 
jority, and on the 14th of October, 1839, took the oath of office at 
Nashville. In 1841, his terra of office expired, and he was again 
the candidate of the Democratic party. But, in the mean time, a 
wonderful poHtical revolution had swept over the whole country. 
Martin Van Buren had lost his re-election, and Gen. Harrison had 
been called triumphantly to the presidential chair. In Tennessee, 
the Whig ticket had been carried by over tweJve thousand ma- 
jority. Under these circumstances, the success of Mr. Polk was 
hopeless. Still he canvassed the State with his Whig competitor, 
Mr. Jones, travelling in the most friendly manner together, often 
in the same carriage, and, it is said, at one time sleeping in the 
same bed. Mr. Jones obtained the election by three thousand 
majority. Again, in 1843, the same gentlemen were competitors 
for the governorship, and again Mr. Polk was defeated. 

And now the question of the annexation of Texas to our country 
agitated fearfully the whole land. It was a plan which originated 
with the advocates of slavery, that they might get territory to cut 
up into slave States, to counterbalance the free States which were 
being formed in the North-west. Texas was a province of Mexico. 
We were on friendly terms with that puny and distracted republic, 
and could find no plausible occasion to pick a quarrel with it. The 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 291 

territory we coveted was in extent equal to the whole empire of 
France, and could be divided into six first-class States. The foh 
lowing plan was adopted to gain the prize : — 

There was a wild, eccentric frontiersman, by the name of Sam 
Houston, who had abandoned civilization, and for six years had 
lived among the Indians, adopting their habits. He was a man 
of very considerable native abiHty. In his character, there was a 
singular blending of good and bad qualities. He had so far com- 
mended himself to the Cherokee Indians, that they had chosen him 
as one of their chiefs. This man gatiiered a pretty numerous 
band of lawless adventurers, and entered Texas to wrest it from 
Mexico as a private speculation. The plan was distinctly an- 
nounced ; and from all parts of the country there was a very ex- 
tensive emigration to those wide and fertile plains of those who 
were in sympathy with the movement. They went strongly 
armed, and with abundant supplies furnished them from the South. 

These men, settlers in Texas, in 1836 called a convention, 
issued a declaration of independence^ formed a constitution estab- 
lishing perpetual slavery, and chose their intrepid leader, Sam 
Houston, their governor. A short, bloody, merciless war ensued. 
The Mexicans were utterly repulsed. Population from the United 
States rapidly flowed in. It was manifest to every one that 
Mexico could never regain her lost province. The first step was 
triumphantly accomplished. A few months after this, the second 
step was taken, and Congress acknowledged the independence of 
Texas. The Texans then sent an envoy to Washington, proposing 
the annexation of Texas to the American Union. 

The friends of slavery generally were in favor of the movement. 
Mr. Benton said that nine slave States could be carved out of the 
majestic domain, each nearly equal to the State of New York. 
]\Iost of the foes of slavery extension were opposed to the measure 
of annexation. Mr. Webster said, — 

" Slavery in this country stands where tlie Constitution left it. 
I have taken an oath to support the Constitution, and I mean to 
abide by it. I shall do nothing to carry the power of the General 
Grovernment within the just bounds of the States. I shall do 
nothing to interfere with the domestic institutions of the South, 
and the Government of the United States have no right to interfere 
therewith. But that is a very different thing from not interfering 
to prevent the extension of slavery by adding a large slave 



292 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

country to this. Texas is likely to be a slaveholding country *, 
and I fi-ankly avow my unwillingness to do any thing that shall 
extend the slavery of the African race on this continent, or add 
another slaveholding State to this Union." 

Thus the question of the annexation of Texas became national. 
Mr. Polk, as the avowed champion of annexation, became the 
presidential candidate of the proslavery wing of the Democratic 
party, and Dallas their candidate for the vice-presidency. He 
was elected by a majority, in the popular vote, of about forty 
thousand. In January, 1845, he left his home in Tennessee for 
Washington, having first had a long private interview with Gen. 
Jackson at the Hermitage. As he was ascending the Ohio River 
in a steamboat at one of the landings, a plain, farmer-like looking 
man, in his working-dross, pressed through the crowd, and, taking 
Mr. Polk's hand, said, — 

"How do you do, colonel? I am glad to see you. I am a 
strong Democrat, and did all I could for you. I am the father of 
twenty-six children, who were all for Polk^ Dallas, and Texas." 

On the 4th of March, 1845, Mr. Pv.lk was inaugurated President 
of the United States. The verdict of the country in favor of an- 
nexation exerted its influence upon Congress ; and the last act of 
the administration of President Tyler was to affix his signature to 
a joint resolution of Congress, passed on the 3d of March, approv- 
ins: of the annexation of Texas to the American Union. As 
Mexico still claimed Texas as one of her provinces, the Mexican 
minister, Almonte, immediately demanded his passports, and left 
the country, declaring the act of annexation to be an act hostile 
to Mexico. But Mexico was poor, feeble, and distracted, — a very 
feeble foe for this great republic to encounter. It would have 
been folly for her to attempt to strike a blow. She could only 
protest. 

In his first message, President Polk urged that Texas should 
immediately, by act of Congress, be received into the Union on 
the same footing with the other States. In the mean time, Gen. 
Taylor was sent with an army into Texas to hold the country. Ho 
was sent first to the Nueces, which the Mexicans said was the 
western boundary of Texas". Then he was sent nearly two hun- 
dred miles farther west, to the Rio Grande, where he erected 
batteries which commanded the Mexican city of Matamoras, which 
was situated on the western banks. 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 293 

The anticipated collision soon took place. We had pushed for* 
ward our army nearly two hundred miles, to the extreme western 
frontier of the disputed territory; had erected our batteries sc as 
10 command the Mexican city of Matamoras, on the opposite banks ; 
liad placed our troops in such a position, that lawless violence was 
sure to provoke retaliation ; and then, as soon as the Mexican 
troops crossed the river, and a conflict ensued, President Polk 
announced to the country that war with Mexico existed. 

" Now, Mexico," he said, '^ has passed the boundary of the 
United States, has invaded our territory, and shed American blood 
on American soil. She has proclaimed that hostilities have com- 
menced, and that the two nations are at war. As war exists, not- 
withstanding our efforts to avoid it, — exists by the act of Mexico 
herself, — we are called upon by every consideration of duty and 
patriotism to vindicate with decision the honor, rights, and inter- 
ests of our country." 

The war was pushed forward by Mr. Polk's administration with 
great vigor. Gen. Taylor, whose army was first called one of 
"observation," then of " occupation," then of " invasion," was sent 
forward to Monterey. The feeble Mexicans, in every encounter, 
were hopelessly and awfully slaughtered. The day of judgment 
alone can reveal the misery which was caused. It was by the in- 
genuity of Mr. Polk's administration that the war was brought on. 
Mr. Webster said, — 

"I believe, that, if the question had been put to Congress 
before the march of the armies and their actual conflict, not ten 
votes could have been obtained in either House for the war with 
Mexico under the existing state of things." 

" To the victors belong the spoils." Mexico was prosti'ate 
before us. Her capital was in our hands. We now consented to 
peace upon the condition that Mexico should surrender to us, in 
addition to Texas, all of New Mexico, and all of Upper and Lower 
California. This new demand embraced, exclusive of Texas, eight 
hundred thousand square miles. This was an extent of territory 
equal to nine States of the size of New York. Thus slavery was 
securing eighteen majestic States to be added to the Union. 
There were some Americans who thought this all right: there 
were others who thought it all wrong. 

Mr. Polk's administration called for a grant of three millions of 
dollars, to be judiciously expended among the Mexicans to induce 



294 LIVES OF THE PRESIDEN'lb. 

them voluDtarily to make this surrender. There was a split in 
the Democratic party ; and some of the Northern Democrats suc- 
ceeded in attaching to this appropriation what was called the 
" Wihnot Proviso," in these words : — 

" Provided always that there shall be neither slavery nor invol- 
untary servitude in any territory on the continent of America 
which shall hereafter be acquired or annexed to the United States 
by virtue of this appropriation, or in any other manner whatso- 
ever, except for crimes whereof the party shall have been duly 
convicted." 

This was called also the Thomas Jefferson Proviso, as its lan- 
guage was copied from the ordinance originally draughted by him 
for the government of the North-western Territory. This restric- 
tion struck Mr. Polk and his friends with consternation. They 
did not wish to annex one single acre more of land, unless it could 
add to the area of slavery. The excitement which pervaded the 
Southern mind was violent in the extreme. Passionate speeches 
were made. Fiery resolutions were draughted by legislatures of 
the slaveholding States. The " dissolution of the Union " was 
threatened. Under the influence of the threat, the proviso was 
reconsidered and rejected. 

At last, peace wa.< made. We had wrested from Mexico terri- 
tory equal, it has been estimated, to four times the empire of 
France, and five times that of Spain. In the prosecution of this 
war, we expended twenty thousand lives, and more than a hundred 
million of dollars. Of this money, fifteen millions were paid to 
Mexico. 

" God moves in a mysterious way 
His wonders to perform." 

Scarcely twenty years elapsed ere the whole of this vast region 
was consecrated to freedom. Gold was discovered in California. 
Northern emigrants rushed to gather it, carrying with them 
Northern love of liberty ; and California bei^ame a free State. Mr. 
Polk, highly gratified with his success, — for he had no doubt that 
the whole region was to be consecrated to slavery, — presented the 
treaty to the Senate for its ratification on the 10th of Mai'ch, 1848. 

Justice to Mr. Polk's memory requires that his view of the 
righteousness and expediency of the war with Mexico should be 
given. While no one will dissent from the facts which have 
already been presented, there are many who will assert that the 



JAMES KNOX POLE. 295 

reasons which Mr. Polk urges in the following sentences were 
not the true causes of the war. In his second Annual Message. 
December, 1846, he says, — 

" The existing war with Mexico was neither provoked nor de- 
sired by the United States : on the contrar}^, all honorable means 
were resorted to to avoid it. After years of endurance of aggra- 
vated and unredressed wrongs on our part, Mexico, in violation 
of solemn treaty stipulations, and of every principle of justice 
recognized by civilized nations, commenced hostilities, and thus, 
by her own act, forced the war upon us. Long before the ad ^nce 
of our army to the left bank of the Rio Grande, we had ample 
cause of war against Mexico. The war has been represented as 
unjust and unnecessary; as one of aggression, on our part, on a 
weak and injured enemy. Such erroneous views, though enter- 
tained but by a few, have been widely and extensively circulated, 
not only at home, but have been spread throughout Mexico and 
the whole world. 

'' The wrongs which we have suffered from Mexico almost ever 
since she became an independent power, and the patient endur- 
ance with Avhich we have borne them, are without a parallel in 
the history of modern civilized nations. Scarcely had Mexico 
achieved her independence, when she commenced the system of 
insult and spoliation which she has ever since pursued. Oui* 
citizens, engaged in lawful commerce, were imprisoned, their 
vessels seized, and our flag insulted in her ports. If money was 
wanted, the lawless seizure and confiscation of our merchant- 
vessels and their cargoes was a ready resource; and if, to accom- 
plish their purposes, it became necessary to imprison the owueis, 
captain, and crew, it was done. Rulers superseded rulers in 
Mexico in rapid succession; but still tliere was no change in this 
system of depredation. The Government of the United States 
made repeated reclamations on behalf of its citizens ; but these 
were answered by the perpetration of new outrages." In this 
general strain of remark he continues through several closely 
printed pages, and then says, " Such is the history of the wrongs 
which we have suffered and patiently endured from Mexico 
through a long seiies of years." 

"The annexation of Texas," he continues, "constituted no just 
cause of offence to Mexico." After giving a brief description of 
the previous history of Texas, and the nature of its union with 



296 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Mexico, as one of its confederate States, he says, "Emigrants from 
foreign countries were invited by the colonization-laws of the 
State and of the Federal Government to settle in Texas. This 
invitation was accepted by many of our citizens, in the full faith, 
that, in their new home, they would be governed by laws enacted 
by representatives elected by themselves; and that their lives, 
liberty, and property would be protected by constitutional guar- 
anties similar to those which existed in the republic they had 
left. Under a government thus organized, they continued until 
the year 1835, when a military revolution broke out in the city 
of Mexico, which entirely subverted the Federal and State con- 
stitutions, and placed a military dictator at the head of the gov- 
ernment. 

" The people of Texas were unwilling to submit to this usurpa- 
tion. Resistance to such tyranny became a high duty. The 
people of Texas flew to arras. They elected members to a con- 
vention, who, in the month of March, 1836, issued a formal decla- 
ration, that their ' political connection with the Mexican nation has 
forever ended, and that the people of Texas do now constitute a 
free, sovereign, and independent republic' '' 

He then gives an account of the unsuccessful attempts of 
Mexico, by her armies, to conquer and reclaim her lost territory. 
"Upon this plain statement of facts," he continues, "it is absurd 
for Mexico to allege that Texas is still a part of her territory." 

"But there are those," he adds, "who, conceding all this to be 
true, assume the ground, that the true western boundary of Texas 
is the Nueces, instead of the Rio Grande ; and that, therefore, in 
marching our army to the east bank of the latter river, we passed 
the Texan line, and invaded the territory of Mexico." His expla- 
nation of this is too long and labored to be inserted here. The 
substance is, that the' Texans claimed the Rio Grande as their 
boundary; that they had conquered it by the sword; that, as 
conquerors, they had a right to it; and that the United-States 
Government, having annexed Texas to the Union, was under 
every moral obligation to defend the boundaries which the Texana 
claimed. 

This defence of the policy of the Government in the affairs 
relative to Texas and Mexico gives one a very just idea of the 
character of Mr. Polk's mind, and of the peculiarity of his abilities. 
The arguments he presents are plausible, rather than convincing. 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 297 

Oae can scarcely conceive of such a document, coming from the 
pen of Jefferson or of Webster. 

On the 3d of March, 1849, Mr. Polk retired from office, having 
served one term. The next day was Sunday. On the 5th, Gen. 
Taylor was inaugurated as his successor. Mr. Polk rode to the 
Capitol in the same carriage with Gen. Taylor ; and the same even- 
ing, with Mrs. Polk, he commenced his return to Tennessee. Very 
enthusiastic demonstrations of regard met him as he journeyed 
through the Southern States. At Wilmington, Charleston, Sa« 
vaunah, and New Orleans, he was honored with splendid ovations. 
He had previously purchased a beautiful mansion in the heart of 
the city of Nashville. 

He was then but fifty-four years of age. He had ever been 
strictly temperate in his habits, and his health was good. With 
an ample fortune, a choice library, a cultivated mind, and domestic 
ties of the dearest nature, it seemed as though long years of tran- 
quillity and happiness were before him. But the cholera — that 
fearful scourge — was then sweeping up the Valley of the Missis- 
sippi. President Polk steamed up the river from New Orleans. 
On board the boat, he perceived the premonitory symptoms of the 
dread disease. When he reached his home, his system was much 
debilitated. A personal friend gives the following account of his 
last hours : — 

''Having reached Nashville, he gave himself up to the improve- 
ment of his grounds, and was seen every day about his dwelling, 
aiding and directing the workmen he had employed, — now over- 
looking a carpenter, now gi\ ing instructions to a gardener, often 
attended by Mrs. Polk, whose exquisite taste constituted the 
element of every improvement. It is not a fortnight since I saw 
him on the lawn, directing some men who were removing decaying 
cedars. I was struck with his erect and healthful bearing, and 
the active energy of his manner, which gave promise of long life. 
His flowing gra}^ locks alone made him appear beyond the middle 
age of life. He seemed in full health. The next day being rainy, 
he remained within, and began to arrange his large library. The 
labor of reaching books from the floor, and placing them on the 
shelves, brought on fatigue and slight fever, which, the next day, 
assumed the character of disease in the form of chronic diarrhoea. 

"For the first three days, his friends felt no alarm; but, the 
disease baffling the skill of his physicians, Dr. Hay, his brother-i&- 

38 



298 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

law, and family physician for twenty years, was sent for from Co« 
lumbia. But the skill and experience of this gentleman, aided by 
the highest medical talent, proved of no avail. Mr. Polk contuiued 
gradually to sink from day to day. The disease was checked 
upon him four days before his death; but his constitution was so 
weakened, that there did not remain recuperative energy enough 
in the system for healthy re-action. He sank away so slowly and 
insensibly, that the heavy death-respirations commenced eight 
hours before he died. He died without a struggle, simply ceasing 
to breathe, as when deep and quiet sleep falls upon a weary man. 
About half an hour preceding his death, his venerable mother en- 
tered the room, and offered up a beautiful prayer to the King of 
kings and Lord of lords, committing the soul of her son to his 
holy keeping." 

His death occurred on the 15th of June, 1849, in the fifty-fourth 
year of his age. His funeral was attended the following day, in 
Nashville, with every demonstration of respect. He left no chil- 
dren. As death drew near, he felt, as thousands of others have 
done, the need of the supports of Christianity, and, in that eleventh 
hour, received the rite of baptism at tho hands of a Methodist 
clergyman. 



CHAPTER XII. 

ZACHARY TAYLOR. 

Birth. — Emigration to Kentucky. — Neglected Education. — Enters the Army. — Life oj 
tlie Frontier. — Battles with the Indians. — Campaign in Florida. — The Mexican W.ii 
— Palo Alto. — Resaca de la Palma. — Monterey. — Buena Vista. — Nominated for thf. 
Presidency. — Sufferings. — Death. 

Zachary Taylor, the twelfth President of the United States, 
Fas born on the 24th of November, 1784, in Orange County, Va. 









RESIDENCE OF ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



His father, Col. Richard Taylor, was a Virginian of note, and a dia 
tinguished patriot and soldier of the Revolution. When Zachary 
was an infant, his father, with his wife and two other children, 
emigrated to Kentucky, where he settled in the pathless wilder- 

299 



300 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

ness. a few miles out from the present city of Louisville. He was 
one of the first settlers of that region ; and as such, when the i)op- 
ulatim increased, was honored with many responsible trusts. 

In this rude frontier-home, far away from civilization and all 
its refinements, young Zachary could enjoy but few social or edu- 
cational advantages. When six years of age, he attended a com- 
mon school, and was then regarded as a bright, active boy, rather 
remarkable for bluntness, and decision of character. He was 
strong, fearless, and self reliant, and manifested an eager desire to 
enter the army to fight the Indians who were ravaging the fron- 
tiers. There is little to be recorded of the uneventful years of 
his childhood on his father's large but lonely plantation. In 1808, 
his father succeeded in obtaining for him the commission of lieu- 
tenant in the United-States army ; and he joined the troops which 
were stationed at New Orleans under Gen. Wilkinson. Soon 
after this, he married Miss Margaret Smith, a young lady from one 
of the first families in Maryland. 

Our relations with England were, at this time, becoming very 
threatening; and we were upon the eve of our second war with 
that power. The English officials in Canada were doing their 
utmost to rouse the Indians against us. Immediately after the 
declaration of war in 1812, Capt. Ta3'lor (for he had then been 
promoted to that rank) was put in command of Fort Harrison, on 
the Wabash, about fifty miles above Vincennes. This fort had 
been built in the wilderness by Gen. Harrison, on his march to 
Tippecanoe. It was one of the first points of attack by the 
Indians, led by Tecumsch. The works consisted simply of a row 
of log-huts for soldiers' barracks, with a strong block-house at 
each end. These buildings occupied one side of a square, the 
other three sides of which were composed of rows of high pickets. 
Its garrison consisted of a broken company of infantry, number- 
ing fifty men, many of whom were sick. 

Early in the autumn of 1812, the Indians, stealthily, and in large 
numbers, moved upon the fort. Their approach was first indi- 
cated by the murder of two soldiers just outside of the stockade. 
Capt. Taylor made every possible prepiiration to meet the an- 
ticipated assault. On the 4th of September, a band of about forty 
painted and plumed savages came to the fort, waiving a white 
flag, and informed Capt. Taylor, that, in the morning, their chief 
would come to have a talk with him. It was evident that their 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 301 

object was merely to ascertain the state of things at the fort; and 
Capt. Taylor, well versed in the wiles of the savages, kept them 
at a distance. 

The sun went down ; the savages disappeared ; the garrison 
slept upon their arms. One hour before midnight, the war-whoop 
burst from a thousand lips in the forest around, followed by the 
discharge of musketry, and the rush of the foe. Every man, sick 
and well, sprang to his post. Every man knew that defeat was not 
merely death, but, in case of capture, death by the most agonizing 
and prolonged torture. No pen can describe, no imagination can 
conceive, the scene which ensued. The savages succeeded in 
setting fire to one of the block-houses. There was a large amount 
of whiskey stored in the building; and the sheets of flame, flash- 
ing to the clouds, lit up the whole landscape with lurid brilliancy. 
The forest, the dancing savages, the yells of the assailants, the 
crackling and glare of the fire, the yelping of the dogs, the shrieks 
of the women (for there were several in the fort), who had become 
almost frantic with terror, the shouts of command, the incessant 
rattle of musketry, — all created a scene of terror which caused the 
stoutest heart to quail. Of course, no one thought of surrender. 
It was far better to perish by the bullet or the fire than to fall 
into the hands of the foe. Until six o'clock in the morning, this 
awful conflict continued. The savages then, baffled at every 
point, and gnashing their teeth with rage, retired. Capt. Taylor, 
for this gallant defence, was promoted to the rank of major by 
brevet. 

Until the termination of the war. Major Taylor was placed in 
such situations, that he saw but little more of active service. 
When the army was reduced at the close of the war, the military' 
board retained him, but assigned to him only the rank of captain. 
Not relishing this arrangement. Major Taylor resigned his com- 
mission, and returned to the peaceful pursuits of agricultural life 
on his plantation. Soon, however, the influence of friends regained 
for him his rank of major; and, returning to the army, he was sent 
far away into the depths of the wilderness, to Fort Crawford, on 
Pox Eiver, which empties into Green Bay. Here there was but 
little to be done but to wear away the tedious hours as one best 
could. There were no books, no society, no intellectual stimulus. 
Thus with him the uneventful years rolled on. Gradually he ross 
to the rank of colonel. In the Black-Hawk War, which resulted 



S02 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

in the capture of that renowned chieftain, Col. Taylor took a sub- 
ordinate but a brave and efficient part. 

It is related of Col. Taylor, that, while engaged in this war, he 
was at one time pursuing Black Hawk with his Indian band, when 
they came to Rock River, which was then understood to be the 
north-west boundary of the State of Illinois. He had under his 
command a pretty large force of volunteers and a few regulars. 
The volunteers openly declared that they would not -cross the 
river, as they had enlisted only for the defence of the State ; and 
that they were not bound to march beyond the frontier into the 
Indian country. Col. Taylor, inclining to the same opinion, en- 
camped upon the banks of the stream. But, during the night, 
orders came for him to follow up Black Hawk to the last extrem- 
ity. The soldiers, hearing of this, assembled on the prairie, in a 
sort of town-meeting, to deliberate respecting what they should 
do. Col. Taylor was invited to attend. He was a man of few 
words, but had already attained some celebrity for his decisive 
actions. 

Yery quietly, for a time, he listened to their proceedings. At 
length, it came his turn to speak. " Gentlemen and fellow-citi- 
zens," said he, " the word has been passed on to me from Wash- 
ington to follow Black Hawk, and to take you with me as soldiers. 
I mean to do both. There are the flat-boats drawn up on the 
shore ; here are Uncle Sam's men drawn up behind you on the 
prairie." 

There was no resisting this argument. In a few hours, they 
were all across the river, in hot pursuit of the foe. For twenty- 
four years. Col. Taylor was engaged in the defence of the fron- 
tiers, in scenes so remote, and in employments so obscure, that 
his name was unknown beyond the limits of his own immediate 
acquaintance. In the year 1836, he was sent to Florida to com- 
pel the Seminole Indians to vacate that region, and retire beyond 
tiie Mississippi, as their chiefs, by treaty, had promised they should 
do. The great mass of the Indians, denying the right of a few 
chiefs to sell the hunting-grounds of their fathers, refused to emi- 
grate : hence the war. Col. Taylor was seJit to capture or destroy 
them, wherever they might be found. 

But little lasting fame can be acquired in fighting undisciplined 
savages. And still the American Indians were so brave and so 
cunning, appearing at this moment like a pack of howling wolves 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 303 

in one spot, and the next moment dispersed, no one couli tell 
where, that it required military qualities of a very high char- 
acter successfully to contend with them. " "War," says Napoleon, 
"is the science of barbarians." Indian warfare has ever been 
found a very good school in which to acquire the rudiments of that 
science. It requires constant vigilance, prompt action, patience, 
versatility of talent, to meet every emergency, and courage of the 
liighest order to face death in its most appalling form. 

The war with the Seminoles was long, bloody, and ingloriou3; 
and, with many of the American people, it was considered as, on 
the part of our Government, very urjust. Early in the winter of 
1837, Col. Taylor, with a small army of about one thousand men, 
commenced a march into the interior to assail a large body of 
Seminole warriors who were encamped upon the banks of the 
great inland lake, Okeechobee. Their path, of one hundred and 
fifty miles, led through an unexplored wilderness, intersected by 
rivers, vast forests of oak and pine, and immense morasses of 
gloomy cypress-trees, with almost impenetrable underbrush, and 
interlacings of vines and pendent moss. There was no path 
through these vast solitudes, and no food could be gathered on 
the Avay for either man or beast. 

Upon the northern shore of this lake there was a swamp, in the 
midst of whose recesses a small island was found. Here seven 
hundred Seminole warriors, having learned through their runners 
of the advance of the white man, had stationed themselves to give 
battle. They were well armed with rifles, and were unerring in 
their aim. Every man of them stood behind his protecting tree; 
and rarely has warfare presented greater peril than the men were 
exposed to in wading through that swamp in the face of such a foe. 
The Indians, nimble as deer, could vanish in an hour; and weeks 
and months might elapse before they could again be found. 
Under these circumstances. Col. Taylor made no reconnoissance, 
but fell instantly and impetuously upon them. 

It was necessary to cross the swamp, three-quarters of a mile in 
breadth, through mud and water knee-deep, impeded by brush and 
weeds, and tall, coarse, wiry grass, before they could reach the 
island or hummock where the foe was stationed. As soon as 
Taylor's advance came within musket-shot, the Indians poured in 
upon them such a deadly fire, that the troops broke, and fled in a 
panic which nothing could check. A second line advanced more 



304 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

cautiously, seeking such protection as the ground could afford, 
and keeping up a constant discharge of musketry : but the 
Indians, from their thicket, concentrated upon them such well- 
aimed shot, that, in a few minutes, every officer was struck down ; 
and, in one company, but four men were left untouched. 

In the mean time, other parties, by other approaches, had gained 
the hummock ; and the Indians broke and fled. For three hours, 
this battle was fought with the utmost desperation on both sides ; 
but the rout was complete. The Seminoles lost so large a num- 
ber of their warriors, that they never ventured to give battle 
again. Their forces were ufterwards divided into marauding 
bands, who gradually, crushed in spirit, surrendered, and were 
removed to the lands allotted to them beyond the Mississippi, 
ixen. Taylor lost, in killed, about thirty, including many of his 
most valuable officers. One hundred and twelve were wounded. 
These unhappy men were carried across the country, to Tampa 
Bay, on litters roughly constructed of poles and hides. This sig- 
nal victory secured for Col. Taylor the high appreciation of the 
Government ; and, as a reward, he was elevated to the rank of brig- 
adier-general by brevet; and soon after, in May, 1838, was ap- 
pointed to the chief command of the United-States troops in 
Florida. Broken bands of Indians, in a high state of exasperation, 
were for a long time wandering through the country, requiring 
the most strenuous exertions on the part of Col. Taylor to protect 
the scattered inhabitants. 

Gen. Taylor, in his official account of the battle of Okeechobee, 
says, " The action was a severe one, and continued from half-past 
twelve until after three in the afternoon; a part of the time, very 
close and severe. We suffered much. The hostiles probably 
suffered, all things considered, equally with ourselves ; they hav- 
ing left ten on the ground, besides, doubtless, carrying off many 
more, as is customary with them when practicable. 

" As soon as the enemy were completely broken, I turned my 
attention to taking care^of the wounded, to facilitate their removal 
to my baggage, where I ordered an encampment to be formed. ] 
directed Capt. Taylor to cross over to the spot, and employ 
every individual whom he might find there, in constructing a 
small footway across the swamp. This, with great exertions, was 
completed in a short time after dark; when all the dead and 
wounded were carried over in litters made for that purpose, with 



ZACHART TAYLOR. 305 

fc ne exception, — a private of the Fourth Infantry, who was killed, 
and could not be found. 

'* And here, I trust, I may be permitted to say, that I expe- 
rienced one of the most trying scenes of my life. And he who 
could have looked on it with indifference, his nerves must have 
been very differently organized from my own. Besides the 
killed, there lay one hundred and twelve wounded officers and 
soldiers, who had accompanied me one hundred and forty-five 
miles, most of the way through an unexplored wilderness, with- 
out guides ; who had so gallantly beaten the enemy, under my 
orders, in his strongest position; and who had to be conveyed back 
through swamps and hummocks from whence we set out, without 
any apparent means of doing so. 

" This service, however, was encountered and overcome ; and 
they have been conveyed thus far, and proceeded on to Tampa 
Bay, on rude litters constructed with the axe and knife alone, with 
poles and dry hides ; the latter being found in great abundance at 
the encampment of the hostiles. The litters were conveyed on 
the backs of our weak and tottering horses, aided by the residue 
of the command, with more ease and comfort than I could have 
supposed, and with as much as they could have been in ambu- 
lances of the most improved and modern construction. 

" This column, in six weeks, penetrated one hundred and fifty 
miles into the enemy's country; opened roads, and constructed 
bridges and causeways, when necessary, on the greater portion of 
the route ; established two depots, and the necessary defences for 
the same ; and, finally, overtook and beat the enemy in his strongest 
position. The results of which movements and battle havo been 
the capture of thirty of the hostiles ; the coming-in and surrender- 
ing of more than one hundred and fifty Indians and negroes, 
mostly of the former, including the chiefs, Oulatoochee, Tusta- 
nuggee, and other principal men ; the capturing, and driving 
out of the country, six hundred head of cattle, upwards of one 
hundred head of horses, besides obtaining a thorough knowledge 
of the country through which we operated, a greater portion of 
which was entirely unknown except to the enemy." 

After two years of such wearisome employment amidst the ever- 
glades of the peninsula. Gen. Taylor obtained, at his own request, a 
change of command, and was stationed over the Department of the 
South-west. This field embraced Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, 

89 



806 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

and Georgia. Establishing his headquarters at Fort Jessup, in 
Louisiana, he removed his family to a plantation, whith he pur- 
chased, near Baton Rouge. Here he remained for five years, 
buried, as it were, from the world, yet faithfully discharging every 
duty imposed upon him. 

It has been said that bayonets must not think. Gen. Taylor was 
an officer in the employment of the United-States Government, 
and, as such, was bound, as he supposed, to obey orders. Tn the 
spring of 1845, Congress passed a joint resolution for the annex- 
ation of Texas ; and Gen. Taylor was directed to hold his troops in 
readiness for action on the Texan frontier. Into the question of 
the right or wrong of this annexation, we have no space to enter. 
Gen. Taylor's position was, however, embarrassing, as it appeared 
to be the desire of the Government (James K. Polk having ju.st 
entered upon the presidency) that Gen. Taylor should take steps 
to bring on a collision with Mexico, of which the Government 
wished to avoid the responsibility. He therefore declined acting 
upon his own responsibility, silently waiting for implicit instruc- 
tions. 

The River Nueces was claimed by Mexico to be the original 
western boundary of Texas ; but Secretary Marcy, in his de- 
spatch to Gen. Taylor, indicated the Rio Grande, nearly two hun- 
dred miles farther west, or rather south, as the boundary-line to be 
defended. He was, however, not ordered, at first, to advance to 
the Rio Grande; though he was directed to cross the Nueces River, 
and establish his corps of observation at Corpus Christi, on the 
western bank of the river. In August, 1845, he took his position 
here, with fifteen hundred troops, which, in November, was in- 
creased by re-enforcements to four thousand. Although, when at 
Corpus Christi, he was on ground which the Mexicans claimed, so 
long as he remained there, there was apparently no danger of 
collision with the Mexican authorities. He disregarded all the 
liints which came to him from Washington for a farther advance 
westward, until March, 1846, when there came explicit orders for 
him to advance to the Rio Grande. He accordingly took up his 
line of march over the boundless prairies which Mexico claimed as 
her territory. At the distance of about one hundred miles, he 
?ame to the waters of the Colorado. Here he found a Mexican 
force drawn up upon the western bank, but altogether too feeble 
to attempt to dispute his passage. Still the Mexican commander 



ZAOHARY TAYLOR. 



307 



Bent a protest against what he regarded as th(, invasion of Mexico, 
and declared that the crossing of the Colorado would be regarded 
as a declaration of war. 

Gen. Taylor, assuming that he was simply bound to obey orders, 
paid no attention to the warning, and crossed the river in sight of 
the Mexican detachment, who peaceably withdrew. Continuing 
liis march, he sent a detachment to occupy Point Isabel, on tho 
banks of an inlet opening into the Gulf, which was easily accessi- 
ble b3'' steamers, and had been fixed upon as the depot for army 
^applies. The main body of the army soon reached the Rio 
Grande, and commenced throwing up defensive works. Opposite 
them, upon the western bank, was the Mexican city of Matamoras. 
This invasion of their country, as the Mexicans deemed it, excited 




GEN. TAYI.on ON THE ItlO GItAXDE. 



great indignation. The Mexican commander. Gen. Ampudia, re- 
fused to hold any friendly intercourse with the Americans, and 
on the 12th of April, by orders from his Government, issued a 
summons to Gen. Taylor to return to the eastern bank of the 
Nueces, there to await the decision of the two Governments, v^'ho 



308 LIVES OF TAE PRESIDENTS. 

were discussing the question of the true boundaries of Texas 
He added, that the refusal to do this must inevitably lead to war. 
Our Government evidently wished to provoke hostilities. Gen. 
Taylor replied, that, as he was acting in a purely military capacity, 
his instructions would not allow him to retire to the Nueces ; and 
that, if war were the only alternative, he accepted it with regret. 

Gen. Taylor wrote to the adjutant-general, April 6, 1846, "On 
our side, a battery for four eighteen-pounders will be completed, 
and the guns placed in battery, to-day. These guns bear directly 
upon the public square at Matamoras, and are within good range 
for demolishing the town. Their object cannot be mistaken by the 
enemy." 

President Polk did not regard this as a hostile measure which 
the Mexicans had any right to resist. In the mean time, Commo- 
dore Sloat was sent to the Pacific with seven ships of war and nearly 
three thousajid men, with secret orders to seize and occupy San 
Francisco and other Mexican ports on the Pacific as soon as he 
should hear of the existence of war between Mexico and the United 
States. Accordingly, on the 7th of July, 1846, hearing of the vic- 
tories of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, he seized Monterey, in 
California, without resistance, and "annexed" California; announ- 
cing that " henceforth California will be a portion of the United 
States." 

The whole territory we wrested from Mexico is estimated to be 
as large as England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Spain, Portugal, 
Italy, and Germany combined. In Cutt's " Conquest of Califor- 
nia," he relates the following anecdote : — 

" Just as we were leaving camp to-day, an old Apache chief 
came in, and harangued the general thus : ' You have taken 
Santa Fe. Let us go on and take Chihuahua and Sonora. We 
will go with you. You fight for the soil ; we fight for plunder : 
so we will agree perfectly. These people are bad Christians: 
let us give them a good thrashing.' " 

This interview between Gen. Kearney and the Indian warrior 
reminds one of the ancient anecdote of Alexander and the pirate. 

The two armed forces upon the Matamoras remained in the 
presence of each other for a month. For more than two miles 
along each bank of the river, antagonistic batteries were facing 
each other, the guns shotted, and the artillery-men on both sides 
impatient for the order to fire. The situation naturally gave rise 



ZACUARY TAYLOR. 309 

to many cau&es of irritation on both sides. Brazos Santiago, the 
port of Matamoras, was blockaded by order of Gen. Taylor ; and 
two supply-ships for the Mexican army were ordered off the harbor. 
No one could deny that this was a hostile act. The deputy quar- 
termaster of the American troops was murdered a short distance 
from camp. A small party of United-States soldiers, in pursuit of 
tho murderers, fell upon a band of Mexicans, fired upon them, and 
put them to flight, taking possession of their camp. On their 
return, they were fired upon by another Mexican party, and one 
of their oflScers was killed. Thus, gradually, hostilities were in- 
augurated. A Mexican force crossed the Rio Grande above Mat- 
amoras. A squadron of United-States dragoons, sent to watch 
their movements, was attacked by the Mexicans, and, after the 
lu«?s of ten men killed, was captured. 

Point Isabel, which, as we have mentioned, was about twelve 
miles from Matamoras, was threatened by a force of fifteen hun- 
dred Mexicans ; and Gen. Taylor's connection with his dep6t of 
supplies was cut ofi". In order to open his communications, he 
left a garrison at Fort Brown, as his works opposite Matamoras 
were called, and, with the remainder of his army, set out on tho 
Ist of May for Point Isabel. Immediately after his departure, 
the Mexicans opened fire upon Fort Brown from a battery on 
the western side of the river. The hostile battery was soon 
silenced ; but, after the lapse of a day, another and more formida- 
ble assault was made, the Mexicans having crossed the river, so 
as to attack the fort both in front and rear. After a spirited bom- 
bardment on both sides, night closed the conflict. In the night, 
by firing his eighteen-pouuders at stated intervals. Major Brown, 
who was in command, signalled Gen. Taylor that he was sur- 
rounded. The next morning, the Mexicans resumed the assault. 
Their shells fell with such accuracy into the camp, that the gar- 
rison was driven into the bomb-proofs. Major Brown was mortally 
wounded. The command devolved upon Capt. Hawkins. He 
refused the summons to surrender, and endured the terrible bom- 
bardment until night again closed the scene. It was the 6th of 
May. 

In the mean time, Gen. Taylor, having learned that the Mexi- 
cans had crossed the river with six thousand men, and that Fort 
Brown was surrounded and in great peril, commenced vigorously 
retracing his steps. The morning of thr* 8th dawned. The Mexi. 



310 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

cans opened again their bombardment with new vigor and hope. 
The thunders of the cannonade floated over the vast prairies, and 
fell heavily upon the ears of the host advancing to the rescue of 
their comrades. About noon, Taylor's force encountered the 
Mexicans. Their appearance was very imposing, as three thou- 
sand men — infantry, cavalry, and artillery, with waving banners 
and gleaming armor — were drawn up on the broad prairie, in a 
line nearly a mile in length. Their right rested upon a dense 
thicket of chaparral, and their left was protected by a swimp. 
They had eleven field-pieces in position. 

Gen. Taylor had about twenty-two hundred men; and was, on 
the whole, superior to the Mexicans in artillery, as he had ten 
guns, two of which were eighteen-pounders. He drew up his 
army in battle-array, about half a mile distant from the Mexicans. 
The field of Palo Alto, upon which these hostile armies were thus 
arrayed, was a vast plain, with nothing to obstruct the view. 
When both armies were ready, they stood for twenty minutes 
looking at each other, each hesitating to begin the work of 
death. At length a white puff of smoke burst from one of the 
Mexican guns, and a cannon-ball whistled over the heads of 
the American troops. This opened the battle. It was mainly an 
artillery contest on both sides. Gen. Taylor was not a tactician : 
he was simply a stern, straightforward, indomitable fighter. 
The combatants kept at quite a distance from each other, throw- 
ing their shot and shell often more than three-quarters of a mile. 
Thus the battle raged for five hours, each army being exposed 
to every shot of its antagonist. The superior skill of the Ameri- 
can gunners, and our heavier weight of metal, gave us the ad- 
vantage ; and the loss was far greater on the Mexican side than 
on ours. The prairie-grass took fire, and sheets of flame rolled 
along ten feet high. Immense clouds of smoke enveloped the 
contending hos Round-shot, grape, and shells tore through 

the Mexican ranks with great slaughter. Our infantry, generally, 
threw themselves upon the ground; and most of the enemy's shot 
either fell short, or passed over their heads. Only four Americans 
were killed, and thirty-two wounded. The Mexican loss was two 
hundred and sixty-two. 

When night came, and closed the conflict, neither party knew 
the efiect of the cannonade upon the other. The Mexicans, how- 
ever, confessed to a defeat, by retiring, under protection of the 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 311 

darkness, to a new position some few miles in tlieir rear. The 
little garrison at Fort Brown, while repelling the assault which 
was made upon them, listened with intense anxiety to the boom- 
ing of the cannon on the field of Palo Alto. Should Gen. Taylor 
be cut off or driven back, the doom of the garrison was sealed. 

The next morning, Gen. Taylor, finding that the enemy had 
disappeared, moved forward to the ground which the Mexicans 
had occupied. They liad left behind them their dead, and many 
of their wounded. He pressed on in pursuit, and »oon found 
them, at the distance of but about three miles from Fort Brown, 
formidably posted in a ravine called Resaca de la Pal ma. Scat- 
tered around were dense thickets of dwarf-oaks, almost impene- 
trable. Here the Mexican general. Arista, had so advantageously 
posted his forces, that it required desperate valor to break 
through. Again there was a battle. It commenced with artil- 
lery, and was followed up with infantry and cavalry. Several 
charges of great impetuosity were made. The Mexicans fought 
with great bravery and with disciplined valor. There was but 
little room for generalship. It was simply hard fighting. The 
forces were not far from equal on both sides ; but the Americao 
soldiers, far more intelligent than their foes, fired with much 
more rapidit}'' and with surer aim, and their victory was com- 
plete. Soon the whole Mexican line was seen on the retreat, 
having lost a thousand of their number in killed, wounded, and 
missing. The American loss did not exceed a hundred and fifty. 
The enemy fled across the river, hotly pursued. Enthusiastic 
were the cheers of the little band in Fort Brown as they saw the 
stars and stripes advancing so gloriously to their rescue. 

The tidings of these victories aroused to an astonishing degree 
the martial spirit of the country. War was now thoroughly 
inaugurated. Those who had brought it on were well pleased. 
"Palo Alto" and "Resaca de la Palma" rang through the land 
as among the most glorious victories which had ever been 
achieved. " On to the halls of the Montezumas ! " was the cry ; 
and the few and feeble voices of remonstrance were drowned in 
the exultant shout. Congress authorized the President to accept 
fifty thousand volunteers. The rank r»f major-general by brevet 
was conferred on Gen. Taylor. Congressional resolutions com- 
plimented him, and the legislatures of several States lavished 
upon him their honors. These flattering testimonials were fe« 



312 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

ceived by Gen. Taylor with that unaflFected simplicity which was 
one of his chief characteristics, and which was manifest in all 
the habits of his life. Though a strict disciplinarian, he could 
scarcely be distinguished, in his own personal appearance and 
dress, from any common farmer. These habits secured for him 
among his troops the soubriquet of " Old Rough and Ready." 

An incident, which occurred soon after the victories just re- 
corded, amusingly illustrates these traits in his character. After 
the relief of Fort Brown, Gen. Taylor prepared to follow up his 
victories by the bombardment of Matamoras. Accordingly, he 
went to Point Isabel to arrange for the co-operation of the navy. 
Commodore Conner, commanding in the Gulf, was as famed for 
particularity in dress as the general was for negligence in that 
respect. The commodore sent word that he would pay the 
general a visit of ceremony. This announcement caused much 
agitation in the mind of the kind-hearted officer. Without 
embarrassment, he could have welcomed his guest with a hearty 
grip of the hand to a seat on the camp-chest, and to a familiar 
talk over their plans ; but . that the most carefully-dressed officer 
in the navy, in command of its finest fleet, should pay him a visit 
of ceremony, in full uniform, and surrounded by all the retinue 
and equipments becoming his rank, was an anticipation almost 
too great for nerves that scarcely trembled in battle. The gene- 
ral, however, decided to receive the commodore, dressed in full 
uniform, — a sight that his officers, who had been associated with 
him for years, had never witnessed. Meanwhile Commodore Con- 
ner, quite unconscious of the flutter he had caused in the general's 
bosom, with the good sense of a gallant and accomplished gentle- 
man, prepared for his interview with the plain old general, whose 
habits were well known to him. 

At the time appointed, habited in plain white drilling, he came 
ashore, without any parade or any attendants. As soon as it was 
reported to Gen. Taylor that his visitor had landed, he hastened 
from some heavy work which he was superintending, rushed into 
his tent, brought from the bottom of his chest a uniform-coat that 
for years had been undisturbed, arrayed himself in it, with its 
standing-collar raised on one side three vacant button-holes above 
its legitimate height, and, in a very uncomfortable manner, seated 
himself for the reception. Commodore Conner quietly entered the 
tent of the commander-in-chief. The distinguished representatives 



ZACHAEY TAYLOu 313 

of the army and navy shook hands in mutual astonifchment at each 
other's personal appearance. It is said, that, after that interview, 
Gen. Taylor took to linen roundabouts, of the largest dimensions, 
with more pertinacity than ever. It matters little whether this 
story be accurately true or not: it illustrates the character of 
the man. 

Another amusing anecdote has been told illustrative of this 
trait of extreme simplicity, and disregard of the ordinary courte- 
sies of life, in the character of Gen. Taylor. A gentleman who 
had been connected with the army, and was attached to the same 
regiment with Taylor, and had been intimately acquainted with 
him, visited Fort Jessup, in Louisiana, while the general was 
stationed in command at that post. He had not seen his old friend 
for some time, and was quite disappointed to learn that he was a 
hundred miles distant, attending a court-martial. 

One day, the gentleman was walking out from the fort in a 
morning ramble, when he met " an old country codger," jogging 
along towards the camp, on a donkey. They exchanged saluta- 
tions, according to the custom in those remote solitudes. But 
the figure of the donkey-rider, on his diminutive beast, was so 
comical, that the gentleman could not refrain from turning round, 
and gazing at him after he had passed. He was dressed in a 
coarse bombazine frock-coat and drab trousers. The bottoms of 
his trousers were tucked under his coarse, spattered boots. A 
black cravat was tied loosely round his neck. He had on a very 
coarse straw hat, whose broad brim, as he trotted along, fla])ped 
up and dowa ; while, from beneath, long, uncombed hair fluttered 
in the breeze. 

The gentleman continued his walk, and, upon returning to the 
fort, was cordially greeted by this comical-looking donkey-rider, 
who, to his surprise, he found to be his old friend, Gen. Taylor 
In passing, neither had recognized the other. 

On the 18th of May, Gen. Taylor, having obtained pontoons, 
crossed the Rio Grande unopposed, both above and below Mata- 
moras, and took possession of the city. The request from Gen. 
Arista, for a suspension of hostilities until the terms of boundary 
could be amicably arranged by the two Governments, was posi 
tively refused. For three months. Gen. Taylor remained at Mata- 
moras. This was with him a period of great anxiety. Hia 
victories had excited unbounded enthusiasm, and both govern- 

40 



314 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

ment and people seemed to expect that he would sweep hnmo- 
diately and resistlessly on to the city of Mexico ; but this 
required a march of more than five hundred miles, intersected by 
rivers easily defended, and mountain-ranges, in whose narrow 
defiles a small band could resist a host. 

President Polk, in transmitting to Gen. Taylor his commission 
of major-general by brevet, wrote to him as follows : " It gave 
me sincere pleasure, immediately upon receipt of official intelli- 
gence from the scene of your achievements, to confer upon ycu, 
by -and with the advice and consent of the Senate, this testimonial 
of the estimate which your Government places upon your skill and 
gallantry. To yourself, and the brave officers and soldiers under 
your command, the gratitude of the country is justly due. Our 
army have fully sustained their deservedly high reputation, and 
added another bright page to the history of American valor and 
patriotism. They have won new laurels for themselves and for 
their country. 

'' The battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma rank among 
our most brilliant victories, and will long be remembered by the 
American people. When all the details of those battles, and of 
the noble defence of the camp opposite to Matamoras, shall have 
been received, it will be my pleasure, as it will be my grateful 
duty, to render to the officers and men under your command 
suitable testimonials for their conduct in the brilliant victories 
which a superintending Providence has enabled thera to achieve 
for their country." 

It was Gen. Taylor's intention to make Camargo, which was 
one hundred and forty miles farther up the river, his base of 
operations in the now contemplated invasion of Mexico. Camargo 
was nearer to Monterey, his next point of attack. He was, how- 
ever, delayed for some time by the non-arrival of re-enforcements, 
and by his want of means of transportation. This delay gave the 
Mexicans time to recover from their panic, and to make prepara- 
tions for a vigorous resistance. At length, the latter part of July, 
the army was put in motion. Sixteen hundred mules had been 
obtained for the transportation. The country through which they 
marched had long been infested by banditti; and large numbers 
of crosses were passed, which had been reared by the friends of 
murdered travellers at the places where they had been slain. 
These crosses were of wood, atout four feet high; some of recent 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 315 

construction, and others hoary, and mossy with age. A brief in- 
scription generally told the story. At one place, there was quite 
a cluster of these crosses, in commemoration of a company of men, 
women, and children, who, on a pleasure-party to Matamoras, were 
met by a band of savages, and all slain. Irreverently our troops 
tore down these crosses, and used them for fire-wood. Camargo 
was reached without opposition ; and here another delay occurred, 
of six weeks. 

Early in September, the troops again took up their line of march 
for Monterey. In the distance, there rose sublimely before them 
the majestic peaks of the mountains, " cutting their outlines against 
the clear sky like huge masses of indigo." It was generally sup- 
posed that the Mexicans would not make any stand at Monterey, 
and Gen. Taylor was of this opinion. Soon, however, the indica- 
tions began to multiply that there was trouble to be encountered 
ahead. The Mexican muleteers shrugged their shoulders omi- 
nously. At Marin, a very intelligent, honest-looking Mexican was 
asked if there would be much fighting. " Yes, sir," he replied 
very decidedly : " there will be much fighting, and many deaths." 

When they reached Seralvo, Mexican cavalry began to appear, 
hovering in front and upon their flanks, watching every move- 
ment. At the village of Ramas, quite a skirmish ensued. On the 
19th of September, the army reached the outskirts of Monterey, 
and encamped at the Walnut Springs, three miles distant from the 
city, which was beautifully situated in the Valley of the San Juan 
River, and was surrounded by the lofty ridges of the Sierrt,. Madre. 
Gen. Taylor was so much deceived, that, two days before, he 
wrote to the War Department, — 

" It is even doubtful whether Gen. Ampudia will attempt to 
hold Monterey. His regular force is small, say three thousand, 
eked out, perhaps, to six thousand by volunteers, many of them 
forced." 

Instead of this, there was found in Monterey a garrison of ten 
thousand soldiers, seven thousand of whom were regular troops. 
Gen. Taylor had under his command six thousand two hundred 
and twenty. 

The next day after our arrival, Sunday the 20th, the enemy'a 
works were carefully reconnoitred. Gen. Worth was then or- 
dered to make a detour to the west of the city, and attack in that 
direction, and carry the works if possible. To aid him in this 



316 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

endeavor, Gen. Taylor was to make a demonstration on the eacL. 
The Mexicans were vigilant, and watched every movement. 
Promptly they threw out re-enforcements to strengthen their 
western lines. To divert their attention, Gen. Taylor displayed 
a large force on the east, and, under cover of the darkness of the 
night, erected a battery of two twenty-four-pounder howitzers, a 
ten-inch mortar, and four light field-batteries of four guns each. 
In the night. Gen. Worth reached the Saltillo Road, and occupied 
a position just out of the range of the Mexican guns. 

Early on the morning of Monday, the 21st, Gen. Taylor received 
a despatch from Gen. Worth, dated nine o'clock the evening 
before, announcing the success of his movement, and urging a 
strong assault, in his support, upon the eastern portion of the 
town. About ten o'clock, as these troops were approacliing the 
eastern walls, they were opened upon from masked batteries, with 
such a storm of iron, that they quailed before it. Gens. Taylor 
and Twiggs were both upon the ground. The troops were thrown 
into confusion ; but the indomitable spirit of Gen. Taylor rallied 
them, and, by an impetuous charge, they captured one fort and an 
old fortified block-house. Still the scene of confusion was dread- 
ful. Many lives had been lost. Gen. Taylor was in the midst of 
the melee, laboring under the most intense excitement. 

As night approached, a little order was evolved from the chaos. 
Garland's brigade held the captured works, and the rest of the 
troops were sent back to camp. At sunset, it began to rain. One 
of the soldiers writes, — 

" That was one of the most miserable nights I ever passed. We 
had had nothing to eat since the evening before. We had been 
out all night, and had been fighting all day ; nor was it until the 
next afternoon — making in all about forty-eight hours under 
arms — that we had even a morsel, except some sugar that had 
been trampled under foot." 

The next day, Tuesday, the 22d, the assault was not renewed, 
its hours were mainly devoted to the sad duty of taking care of 
the wounded, and burying the dead. The enemy kept up a vigor- 
ous fire upon any of our troops who came within range. Gen. 
Worth's division, however, upon the other side of the city, after 
very hard fighting, succeeded in carrying the Bishop's Palace, and 
turned its guns upon the fugitive garrison. Gen. Taylor, having 
ascertained the fact of this decisive success, felt confident that the 
Mexicans could not long hold possession of the town. 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 317 

During the night, the enemy evacuated nearly all his defences 
on the eastern part of the city, to strengthen those points now so 
seriously menaced on the west by Gen. Worth. This was reported 
early in the morning to Gen. Taylor. He says in his report, — 

" I immediately sent instructions to that officer, leaving it to his 
discretion, to enter the city, covering his men by the houses and 
walls, and to advance as far as he might deem prudent. After or- 
dering the remainder of the troops as a reserve, under the orders of 
Gen. Twiggs, I repaired to the abandoned works, and discovered 
that a portion of Gen. Quitman's brigade had entered the town, 
and were successfully 'working their way towards the principal 
plaza. I then ordered up the Second Regiment of Texas mounted 
volunteers, who entered the city, dismounted, and, under the imme- 
diate orders of Gen. Henderson, co-operated with Gen. Quitman's 
brigade. Capt. Bragg's battery was also ordered up, and sup- 
ported by the Third Infantry ; and, after firing for some time at 
the cathedral, a portion of it was likewise thrown into the city. 

" Our troops advanced from house to house, and from square to 
square, until they reached a street but one square in rear of the 
principal plaza, in and near which the enemy's force was mainly 
concentrated. This advance was conducted vigorously, but with 
due caution, and, although destructive to the enemy, was attended 
with but small loss upon our part." 

In the mean time, American batteries were throwing shot and 
shell into the city, until the fire endangered our own advancing 
troops. As Quitman's brigade was exceedingly exhausted, and 
night was drawing on. Gen. Taylor ordered them to withdraw to 
the safer position of the evacuated works. This was done slowly, 
and in good order. At eleven o'clock at night, he received a note 
from Gen. Worth, stating that he had penetrated the city almost 
to the central plaza, and that a mortar which had been forwarded 
to his division in the morning was doing great execution. 

Early in the morning of Thursday, the 24th. Gen. Taylor re- 
ceived a despatch from the Mexican general, Ampudia. proposing 
to evacuate the town. This led to a cessation of fire until twelve 
o'clock. A personal interview took place between the two gen- 
erals, Taylor and Ampudia, which resulted in a capitulation. The 
town and its material of war were placed in possession of the vic- 
tor. The city was found to be very strongly fortified. Its well- 
constructed works were armed with forty-two pieces of cannon, 



318 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

and well supplied with ammunition. Our loss was very severe. 
Twelve officers and one hundred and eight men were killed. 
Thirty-one officers and three hundred and thirty-seven men were 
wounded. The loss of the enemy is not known; but it must have 
been dreadful, as our balls and shells tore through their streets 
and dwellings. 

An eye-witness thus describes the appearance, as our troops 
were in the distance storming one of the heights : " Each flash 
looked like an electric spark. The flashes and the white smoke 
ascended the hillside as steadily as if worked by machinery. The 
dark space between the apex of the height and the curling smoke 
of the musketry grew less and less, until the whole became envel- 
oped in smoke, and we knew that our gallant troops had carried 
it. It was a glorious sight, and quite warmed our cold and chilled 
bodies." 

Gen. Worth's division had left camp with only two days' ra- 
tions, and much of this was spoiled by the rain ; yet they climbed 
these cliffs and charged these batteries for forty-eight hours, 
many of them without any food except raw corn. 

Gen. Taylor, consolidating his strength at Monterey, sent out 
divisions of his army to occupy important posts in the vicinity. 
Santa Anna was commander-in-chief of the Mexican armies. He 
collected twenty thousand men at San Luis Potosi, a city of four 
thousand inhabitants, about two hundred and fifty miles south of 
Monterey. Gen. Scott was placed in command of all the land- 
forces in Mexico. As he was preparing to advance upon the city 
of Mexico by the way of Vera Cruz, nearly all of Gen. Taylor's 
forces were withdrawn from him. For five months, Gen. Taylor 
remained in Monterey, with merely sufficient men to garrison his 
defensive works ; but in February, having received re-enforce- 
ments which raised his army to six thousand men, he commenced 
a forward movement. When about fifty miles south of Monterey, 
he learned that Santa Anna was rapidly advancing upon him with 
twenty thousand men. To meet such a force with but five thou 
sand, it was necessary that Gen. Taylor should have every possi- 
ble advantage of position. He found a field such as he desired, 
on a plateau, a short distance from the small hamlet of Buena 
Vista. Having posted his little band to the best possible advan- 
tage, Gen. Taylor, with his stafi", stood upon an eminence at a little 
distance, from which he could see the cloudii of dust raised by the 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 319 

immense host advancing against him. Onward the vast throng 
pressed, in numbers which seemed almost countless, until the band 
of Americans was nearly surrounded. Anxiously his staff looked 
into the general's face ; but no sign of faltering or agitation could 
be perceived. 

Just then, a Mexican messenger was seen nearing the outposts 
i^ith a flag of truce. It was a summons to surrender, with the 
assurance that twenty thousand Mexicans were in Gen. Taylor's 
front and rear. 

" Were they twice that number," Gen. Taylor quietly remarked 
to the officers around him, '' it would make no difference." 

He then returned the modest answer to Santa Anna, " Gen. 
Taylor never surrenders." As he rode along his ranks, he said to 
his troops, " Soldiers, I intend to stand here not only so long as a 
man remains, but so long as apiece of a man is left." It was the 
22d of February, 1847. The battle soon commenced, — a battle 
of ten hours' duration. In the midst of one of its most terrible 
scenes of tumult and carnage. Gen. Taylor rode up to a battery 
which was dealing destruction in the ranks of the foe, and, in 
tones as calm as if he were sitting by his camp-fire, said, "A little 
more grape, Capt. Bragg." At the close of the day, over seven 
hundred of the Americans had been stricken down in killed and 
wounded, and about two thousand of the Mexicans. Often, during 
the eventful day, the result of the conflict was extremely doubtful; 
and, when night closed the scene, it seemed probable, in the 
American camp, that the dreadful struggle would be renewed on 
the morrow. The day of the battle was wet and raw. Our ex- 
hausted troops, drenched and chilled, bivouacked without fires. 
It was an anxious night ; but in the morning, to their unspeakable 
relief, they found that the Mexicans had fled. This ended Gen. 
Taylor's active participation in the Mexican War. 

Seldom has a battle been fought in which the troops displayed 
more gallant conduct than was exhibited by Gen. Taylor's army 
at the battle of Buena Vista. All of the troops were voluntoers, 
with the exception of about five hundred. But few of them had 
been with Taylor in his previous victories, and many of them had 
never been in battle. It is universally admitted that the victory 
was owing, not merely to the courage and patient endurance of 
the troops, but also to the military skill of their commander. 
Three several times during the day, the battle, on our part, seemed 



320 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

hopelessly lost. The Mexicans were so superior in numbers, that 
they could easily concentrate an overpowering force at any point. 
With most painful interest, Gen. Taylor watched the movements 
. in various parts of the field, as he despatched re-enforcements, now 
in one direction and now in another, to strengthen his exhausted 
and wavering lines. 

At one time, the Second Kentucky Regiment was despatched to 
the aid of a column, which was slowly giving way before the tre- 
mendous pressure of the foe. In hurrying to their relief, the 
regiment was compelled to pass through a ravine filled with 
gullies and obstructions. In their eagerness in pressing forward, 
and surmounting these diflSculties, they, of course, became broken, 
and presented an aspect of confusion and disorder. Gen. Taylor, 
who was eagerly watching them in the distance, was bitterly dis- 
appointed at this apparent failure of troops upon whom he had 
placed great reliance. Turning sadly to Mr. Crittenden, who 
stood near, he said, — 

" This will not do. This is not the way for Kentuckians to 
behave themselves." 

Mr. Crittenden was also so mortified, and felt so deeply for the 
honor of his native State, that, for a few moments, he could make 
no reply. But soon the Kentuckians had crossed the rugged 
chasm, and were seen ascending the slope to the higher land 
beyond, shoulder to shoulder, like the veterans of a hundred bat- 
tles. The general could scarcely restrain his expressions of de- 
light, as they moved rapidly on until they reached the crest of the 
hill. Here they encountered a large body of the Mexicans, rush- 
ing onward with shouts of exultation. The Kentuckians levelled 
their pieces, and poured in their volleys of bullets again and 
again, with such regularity, precision, and rapidity of fire, that 
the Mexicans recoiled, staggered, and fled, leaving the ground 
covered with their dead. 

The general, with a throbbing heart and a moistened eye, but 
in perfect silence, watched this movement so heroic, and its re- 
sults so decisive. His face was flushed with excitement, and 
beamed with delight. But when the distant report of the 
volleys reached his ear, and he saw the Mexicans in wild flight, 
scattered over the plain, he could no longer restrain his admira- 
tion, but shouted, " Hurrah for old Kentucky ! " 

A distinguished officer in the army thus describes the appear- 
ance of the general toward the close of the conflict : — 



ZACHART TAYLOR. 321 

" At a time when the fortunes of the day seemed extremely 
problematical, when many on our side even despaired of success, 
old Rough and Ready, as he is not inaptly styled (whom you,must 
know, by the by, is short, fat, and dumpy in person, with re 
markably short legs), took his position on a commanding height 
overlooking the two armies. This was about three, or perhaps 
four o'clock in the afternoon. The enemy, who had succeeded in 
gaining an advantageous position, made a fierce charge upon our 
column, and fought with a desperation that seemed, for a time, to 
insiire success to their arms. The struggle lasted for some time. 
All the while, G-en. Taylor was a silent spectator ; his countenance 
exhibiting the most anxious solicitude, alternating between hope 
and despondency. His staff, perceiving his perilous situation, — 
for he was exposed to the fire of the enemy, — approached him, and 
implored him to retire. He heeded them not. His thoughts were 
intent upon victory or defeat. He knew not at this moment what 
the result would be. He felt that that engagement was to decide 
his fate. He had given all his orders, and selected his position. 
If the day went against him, he was irretrievably lost; if for him, 
he could rejoice, in common with his countrymen, at the trium- 
phant success of our arms. 

" Such seemed to be his thoughts, his determination; and when 
he saw the enemy give way, and retreat in the utmost confusion, 
he gave free vent to his pent-up feelings. His right leg was 
quickly disengaged from the pommel of the saddle, where it had 
remained during the whole of the fierce encounter ; his arms, 
which were calmly folded over his breast, relaxed their hold ; his 
feet fairly danced in the stirrups; and his whole body was in 
motion. It was a moment of the most exciting and intense 
interest. His face was suffused with tears. The day was won ; 
the victory complete ; his little army saved from defeat and dis- 
grace; and he could not refrain from weeping for joy at what had 
seemed to so many, but a moment before, as an impossible result." 

The tidings of the brilliant victory of Buena Vista spread the 
wildest enthusiasm over the country. The name of Gen. Taylor 
was on every one's lips. The Whig party decided to take advan- 
tage of this wonderful popularity in bringing forward the unpol- 
ished, unlettered, honest soldier as their candidate for the presi- 
dency. Gen. Taylor was astonished at the announcement, and for 
a time would not listen to it ; declaring that he was not at all quali- 

41 



322 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

fied for such an office. So little interest had ho taken in politics 
that, for forty years, he had not cast a vote. It was not without 
chagrin that several distinguished statesmen who had been long 
years in the public service found their claims set aside in behalf of 
one whose name had never been heard of, save in connection with 
Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, Monterey, and Buena Vista. It is 
said that Daniel Webster, in his haste, remarked, " It is a nomina- 
tion not fit to be made." 

Gen, Taylor was not an eloquent speaker or a fine writer. His 
friends took possession of him, and prepared such few communica- 
tions as it was needful should be presented to the public. The 
popularity of the successful warrior swept the land. He was 
triumphantly elected over two opposing candidates, — Gen. Cass, 
and the Ex-President, Martin Van Buren. Though he selected an 
excellent cabinet, the good old man found himself in a very uncon- 
genial position, and was, at times, sorely perplexed and harassed. 
His mental sufferings were very severe, and probably tended to 
hasten his death. The proslavery party was pushing its claims 
with tireless energy ; expeditions were fitting out to capture Cuba ; 
California was pleading for admission to the Union, while slavery 
stood at the door to bar her out. Gen. Tciylar found the political 
conflicts in Washington to be far more trying to the nerves than 
battles with Mexicans or Indians. 

In the midst of all these troubles, Gen. Taylor, after he had 
occupied the presidential chair but little over a year, took cold, 
and, after a brief sickness of but five days, died on the 9th of 
July, 1850. His last words were, '' I am not afraid to die. I am 
ready. I have endeavored to do my duty." He died universally 
respected and beloved. An honest, unpretending man, he had 
been steadily growing in the affections of the people; and the 
nation bitterly lamented his death. All assented to the general 
truthfulness of the following eulogy, pronounced by the Hon. 
Mr. Marshall : — 

"Great, without pride; cautious, without fear; brave, without 
rashness; stern, without harshness; modest, without bashfulness ; 
apt, Avithout flippancy ; sagacious, without cunning ; benevolent, 
M ithout ostentation ; sincere and honest as the sun, — the noble old 
Roman has, at last, laid down his earthly harness : his task ia 
done." 

Gen. Scott, who was thoroughly acquainted with Gsn. Taylor, 



Z A CHART TAYLOR. 323 

gives the following graphic and truthful description of his char- 
acter : — 

" With a good store of common sense, Gen. Taylor's mind had 
not been enlarged and refreshed by reading, or much converse 
with the world. Rigidity of ideas was the consequence. The 
frontiers and small military posts had been his home. Hence ho 
was quite ignorant for his rank, and quite bigoted in his ignorance. 
His simplicity was child-like, and with innumerable j^rejudices, 
amusing and incorrigible, well suited to the tender age. Thus, if 
a man, however respectable, chanced to wear a coat of an unusual 
color, or his hat a little on one side of the head ; or an officer to 
leave a corner of his handkerchief dangling from an outside pocket, 
— in any such case, this critic held the offender to be a coxcomb 
(perhaps something worse), whom he would not, to use his oft- 
repeated phrase, ' touch with a pair of tongs.' 

"Any allusion to literature beyond good old Dil worth's Spelling- 
book, on the part of one wearing a sword, was evidence, with the 
same judge, of utter unfitness for heavy marchings and combats. 
In short, few men have ever had a more comfortable, labor-saving 
contempt for learning of fevery kind. Yet this old soldier and 
neophyte statesman had the true basis of a great character, — 
pure, uncorrupted morals, combined with indomitable courage. 
Kind-hearted, sincere, and hospitable in a plain way, he had no 
vice but prejudice, many friends, and left behind him not an 
enemy in the world." 



CHAPTER XIII. 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 



£ '.ri lowly Birth. — Struggles with Adversity. — Limited Education. — Eagerness for In^al- 
lectual Improvement. — A Clothier. — A Law-student. — Commenceine: tof Fikctice. — 
Rapid Rise. — Political Life. — In Congi'eis. — Vice-President. — President. — His 
Administration. — Retirement. — The Civil War. 



MiLLARD Fillmore, the thirteenth President of the United 
St".t«a, was born at Summer Hill, Cayuga County, N.Y., on 




;ipii; 



IIIIIIIU>UIUIUIIIIIUIIIIIIi|ll| 'S^?^^£' 4 f / 




RESIDENCE OF MILL.VKO FILLMORE. 



the 7th of Januar}'-, 1800. His father was a farmer, and, owing, 
to misfortune, in humble circumstances. Of his mother, the 
daughter of Dr. Abiathar Millard of Pittsfield, Mass., it has been 
Raid that she possessed an intellect of verj high order, united with 

324 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 325 

much personal loveliness, sweetness of disposition, graceful mar> 
ners, and exquisite sensibilities. She died in 1831 ; having Jived 
to see her son a young man of distinguished promise, though she 
was not permitted to witness the high dignity which he finally 
attained. 

In consequence of the secluded home and limited means of his 
father, Millard enjoyed but slender advantages for education in hi^ 
early years. The common schools, which he occasionally attended 
were very imperfect institutions ; and books were scarce and e.x 
pensive. There was nothing then in his character to indicate thu 
brilliant career upon which he was about to enter. He was a 
plain farmer's boy ; intelligent, good-looking, kind-hearted. The 
sacred influences of home had taught him to revere the Bible, and 
had laid the foundations of an upright character. When fourteen 
years of age, his father sent him some hundred miles from home, 
to the then wilds of Livingston County, to learn the trade of a 
clothier. Near the mill there was a small village, where some 
enterprising man had commenced the collection of a village 
library. This proved an inestimable blessing to young Fillmore. 
His evenings were spent in reading. Soon every leisure moment 
was occupied with books. His thirst for knowledge became insa- 
tiate ; and the selections which he made were continually more 
elevating and instructive. He read history, biography, oratory ; 
and thus gradually there was enkindling in his heart a desire to 
be something more than a mere worker with his hands ; and he 
was becoming, almost unknown to himself, a well informed, 
educated man. 

This intellectual culture of necessity pervaded his whole being. 
It beamed forth from his countenance; it inspired his words; it 
placed its impress of dignity and refinement upon his manners. 
The young clothier had now attained the age of nineteen years, 
and was of fine personal appearance and of gentlemanly demeanor. 
It so happened that there was a gentleman in the neighborhood of 
ample pecuniary means and of benevolence, — Judge Walter Wood, 
— who was struck with the prepossessing appearance of youn» 
Fillmore. He made his acquaintance, and was so much impressed 
with his ability and attainments, that he advised him to abandon 
his trade, and devote himself to the study of the law. The young 
man replied, that he had no means of his own, no friends to help 
him, and that his previous education had been very imperfect. But 



326 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Judge Wood had so much confidence in him, that he kindly offered 
to take him into his own office, and to loan him such money as ho 
needed. Most gratefully, the generous offer was accepted. 

There is in many minds a strange delusion about a collegiate 
education. A young man is supposed to be liberally educated if 
he has graduated at some college. But many a boy loiters through 
university halls, and then enters a law-office, who is by no means 
as well prepared to prosecute his legal studies as was Millard 
Fillmore when he graduated at the clothing-mill at the end of 
four years of manual labor, during which every leisure moment 
had been devoted to intense mental culture. 

Young Fillmore was now established in the law-oflSce. The 
purity of his character, the ardor of his zeal, his physical health, 
and his native abilities, all combined to bear him triumphantly 
forward in his studies. That he might not be burdened with debt, 
and that he might not bear too heavily On the generosity of his 
benefxctor, he, during the winter months, taught school, and, in 
various other ways, helped himself along. After spending two 
years in this retired country village, he went to the city of Buffalo, 
and entered a law-office there, where he could enjoy the highest 
advantages. Here, for two years more, he pressed onward in his 
studies with untiring zeal; at the same time, supporting himself 
mainly by teaching. 

In 1823, when twenty-three years of age, he was admitted 
to the Court of Common Pleas. He then went to the beautiful 
little village of Aurora, situated on the eastern banks of Cayuga 
Lake, and commenced the practice of the law. In this secluded, 
peaceful region, his practice, of course, was limited, and there was 
no opportunity for a sudden rise in fortune or in fame. Here, in the 
year 1826, he married a lady of great moral worth, and one capable 
of adorning any station she might be called to fill, — Miss Abigail 
Powers, daughter of Rev. Lemuel Powers. \n this quiet home of 
rural peace and loveliness, Mr. Fillmore continued to devote him- 
self to juridical studies, and to the fundamental principles of law. 
as if he had been conscious of the exalted destiny which was be- 
fore him. Probably no portion of his life was more happy than 
these serene, untroubled hours. 

But true merit cannot long be concealed. His elevation of 
character, his untiring industry, his legal acquirements, and his 
skill as an advocate, gradually attracted attention ; and he was in- 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 327 

vited to enter into partnership, under highly advantageous circum' 
stances, with an elder member of the bar in Buffalo. Just before 
removing to Bufialo, in 1829, he took his seat in the House of 
Assembly of the State of New York, as representative from Erie 
County. Though he had never taken a very active part in 
politics, liis vote and his sympathies were with the Whig party. 
Tlie State was then Democratic, and he found himself in a helpless 
minority in the Legislature : still tlie testimony comes from all 
parties, that his courtesy, abil'ty, and integrity, won, to a very un- 
usual degree, the respect of his associates. To the important bill 
for abolishing imprisonment for debt he gave his earnest and elo- 
quent co-operation, speaking upon the subject with convincing 
power. 

The State Legislature is not unfrequently the entrance-door 
to the National Congress. After discharging, with great accept- 
ance to his Whig constituents, his responsibilities in the House 
of Assembly for three years, he was, in the autumn of 1832, 
elected to a seat in the United-States Congress. He entered 
that troubled arena in some of the most tumultuous hours of 
our national history. The great conflict respecting the National 
Bank, and the removal of the deposits, was then raging. Expe- 
rienced leaders, veterans in Congressional battles, led the con- 
tending hosts. There was but little opportunity for a new-comer 
to- distinguish himself In this battle of the giants, Mr. Fillmore 
could do but little more than look on, study the scene, garner 
wisdom, watch his opportunity, and cast his silent vote. 

His term of two years closed; and he returned to his profession, 
which he pursued with increasing reputation and success. After 
the lapse of two years, he again became a candidate for Congress: 
was re-elected, and took his seat in 1837. His past experience 
as a representative gave him strength and confidence. The first 
term of service in Congress to any man can be but little more 
Ihan an introduction. He was now prepared for active duty. 
All his energies were brought to bear upon the public good, 
Every measure received his impress. The industr}^ and the 
intensity with which he applied himself to his Congressional 
duties were characteristic of the man, and have, perhaps, never 
been surpassed. 

His reputation now began to be national. The labors which 
devolved upon him were more arduous than can well be conceived 



328 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of by one who has not been in the same situaticn. To draught 
resolutions in the committee-room, and then to defend them 
against the most skilful opponents on the floor of the Ilouse, 
requires readiness of mind, mental resources, and skill in debate, 
such as few possess. Weary with these exhausting labors, and 
pressed by the claims of his private affairs, Mr, Fillmjre, just 
before the close of the session, wrote a letter to his constituents, 
declining to be a candidate for re-election. Notwithstanding this 
communication, his fric^nds met in convention, and unanimously, 
and by acclamation, renominated him, with the most earnest 
expression of their desire that he would comply with their wishes. 
Though greatly gratified by this proof of their appreciation of 
his labors, he adhered to his resolve ; and, at the close of the 
term for which he was elected, he returned to his home, rejoicing 
at his release from the agitating cares of official life. 

Mr. Fillmore was now a man of wide repute, and his popularity 
filled the State. The lines between the two parties, the Whig 
and Democratic, were strongly drawn ; and the issues involved 
excited the community to. the highest, degree. The Whig party 
brought forward Mr. Fillmore as the strongest candidate whom 
they could present for the office of governor. The canvass was 
one of the most exciting which had ever agitated the State, and 
the Whig party was signally defeated. In the year 1847, he was 
elected, by a very great majority, to the very important office 
of comptroller of the State. Many who were not with him in 
political principles gave him their vote, from their conviction 
of his eminent fitness for that olhce. 

In entering upon the responsible duties which this situation 
demanded, it was necessary for him to abandon his profession, 
and, sundering those social ties which bound him to his numerous 
friends in Buffalo, to remove to the city of Albany. It was uni- 
versally admitted that the duties of this office were never more 
faithful I}'- discharged. 

Mr. Fillmore had attained the age of forty-seven years. His 
labors at the bar, in the Legislature, in Congress, and as comp- 
troller, had given him very considerable fame. The Whigs were 
casting about to find suitable candidates for President and Vice- 
President at the approaching election. Far away, on tlie waters 
of the Rio Grande, there was a rough old soldier, who had fought 
one or two successful battles with the Mexicans, which had 



MILLARD FILLMORE, 329 

caused his name to be proclaimed in trumpet-tones all over the 
land. He was an unpolished, unlettered man, entirely inexpe- 
rienced in all statesmanlike accomplishments ; but he was a man 
of firmness, of uncompromising integrity, and of sound common 
sense and practical wisdom. He was an available man; for 
"Palo Alto" and " Resaca de la Palma " would ring pleasantly 
upon the popular ear, and catch the popular vote. But it was 
necessary to associate with liim on the same ticket some man of 
reputation as a statesman, and in whose intellectual powers and 
varied experience the community might repose confidence. 

Under the influence of these considerations, the names of 
Zachary Taylor and Millard Fillmore became the rallying-cry 
of the Whigs as their candidates for President and Vice-President. 
The AVliig ticket was signally triumphant. On the 4th of March, 
1849, Gen. Taylor was inaugurated President, and Millard Fill- 
more Vice-President, of the United States. He was admirably 
adapted for this position. His tall, well-proportioned, manly form, 
and the natural dignity and grace of his bearing, gave him an 
imposing presence. His mind, originally of a high order, and 
disciplined by the laborious culture of years, enabled him 
promptly and successfully to meet every intellectual emergency. 
His countenance gave expression to those traits of firmness, 
gentleness, and conscientiousness, which marked his character. 

The stormy days of the Republic were now at hand. The great 
question of slavery was permeating every subject which was 
brouglit before Congress, shaping the whole legislation of the 
country, arousing fiery debate, arraying parties in hostile lines 
in the Senate and in the House, and agitating as with cirth- 
quake-throcs ever}' city and village in the Union. It was evident 
that the strength of our institutions was soon to be severely 
tried. John C. Calhoun, when President of the Senate, had 
taken the position, that he had no power to call a senator to 
order for words, however intemperate, when spoken in debate. 
Vice-President Fillmore, upon taking his chair as presiding otficer 
over that august body, announced to the Senate his determination 
tion to maintain decorum in that chamber, and that he should 
promptly call senators to order for any offensive words which 
might be spoken. The Senate manifested its approval of this 
decision by unanimously ordering the views thus expressed to 
be entered upon their journal, 

42 



330 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



On the 9th of July, 1850, President Taylor, but about ens yoai 
and four months after his inauguration, Avas ?:nddenly taken sich, 
and died. By the Constitution, Yicc-President Fillmore ihiu 
became President of the United States. He appointed a very 
able cabinet, of which the illustrious Daniel Webster was Secre- 
tary of State. The agitated condition of the country brought 
questions of very great delicacy before him. He was bound by 
his oath of office to execute the laws of the United States. One 
of those laws was understood to be, that if a slave, escaping front 




THE UNITED-STATES SENATE. 



bondage, ohould reach a free State, the United States was bound 
to help catch him, and return him to his master. Most Christian 
men loathed this law. President Fillmore felt bound by his 
oath rigidly to see it enforced. Slavery was organizing armies 
to invade Cuba, as it had invaded Texas, and annex it to the 
United States. President Fillmore gave all the influence of hia 
exalted station against the atrocious enterprise. The illustrious 
Hungarian, Kossuth, visited our shores, and was cordially re- 
ceived by the President ; while he frankly informed him that it 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 331 

was the policy of our Government to avoid all complicarions in 
European affairs. 

Mr. Fillmore had very serious diflSculties to contend with, since 
the opposition had a majority in both Houses. He did every 
thing in his power to conciliate the Soutli ; but the-4)roslavery 
party in the South felt the inadequacy of all measures of transient 
conciliation. The popuhition of the free States was so rapidly 
increasing over that of the slave States, that it was inevitable that 
\\\Q power of the Government should soon pass into the hands of 
the free States. The famous compromise-measures were adopted 
under Mr. Fillmore's administration, and the Japan Expedition 
was sent out. 

On the 4th of March, 1853, Mr. Fillmore, having served one 
term, retired from office. He then took a long tour througliou*' 
the South, where he met with quite an enthusiastic reception. 
In a speech at Vicksburg, alluding to the rapid growth of the 
country, he said, — 

" Canada is knocking for admission, and Mexico would be glad 
to come in ; and, without saying whether it would be right or 
wrong, we stand with open arms to receive them : for it is the 
manifest destiny of this Government to embrace the whole North- 
American continent." 

In 1855, President Fillmore went to Europe, where he wais 
received with those marked attentions which liis position and 
character merited. Returning to this country in 185G, he was 
nominated for the presidency by the strangely called '' Know- 
Nothing" party. Mr. Buchanan, the Democratic candidate, was 
the successful competitor for tlie prize. Since then, Mr. Fillmore 
has lived in retirement. During the terrible conflict of civil war, 
he was mostly silent. It was generally supposed that his sympa- 
thies were rather with those who were endeavoring to overthrow 
f)ur institutions. Edward Everett, who had been a candidate for 
ihe vice-presidency, left no one in doubt respecting his abhorrence 
of the Rebellion, and his devotion to his country's flag. Presi- 
dent Fillmore kept aloof from the conflict, witho'^i any cordial 
words of cheer to the one party or the other. He was thus for- 
gotten by both. He died in Buffalo, N.Y., March 8, 1874, aged 
seventy-five years and two months. 



OH APT Ell AlV. 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



Character of his Father. --His Promise in Boyhood. — College Life. — Political Views. - 
Succosb as a Lawyer. - — Entrance upon Public Life. — Service in the Mexiciin War. — 
Laudii.g in Mexico. — March through the Country. — Incidents of the llarcli. — Anec- 
dotes. — Nomination for the Presidency. — Election. — Administration. — Retirement. 

Franklin Pierce, the fourteenth President of the United 
States, was born in Hillsborough, N.H., Nov. 23, 1804. Hia 




EESIDENCE OF FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



.fatL<.r was a Eevolutionary soldier, who, with his own strong 
arm, hewed him out a home in the wilderness. lie Avas a man of 
inflexible integrity; of strong, though uncultivated mind; and an 
uncompromising Democrat. When, under the administration of 



832 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 333 

John Adams, an effort was made to draw onr conn ,ry into an 
alliance with England in her war against the French republic, 
Major Pierce, as his title then was, was offered a high commission 
in the army which was proposed to be levied. 

" No, gentlemen," was his reply. '' Poor as I am, and acceptable 
as would be the position under other circumstances, I would sooner 
go to yonder mountains, dig me a cave, and live on roast potatoes, 
than be instrumental in promoting the objects for which that 
army is raised." 

His energetic and upright character and commanding abilities 
gave him great influence in the secluded region where he dwelt, 
and he occupied nearly every post of honor and emolument which 
his neighbors could confer upon him. He was for several years 
in the State Legislature ; was a member of the governor's council, 
and a general of the militia. He was an independent farmer; a 
generous, large-hearted, hospitable man. The mother of Franklin 
Pierce was all that a son could desire, — an intelligent, prudent, 
affectionate, Christian woman. Franklin was the sixth of eight 
children. 

Old Gen. Pierce was a politician, ever ready for argument; 
and there was ample opportunity for the exercise of his powers 
in those days of intense political excitement, when, all over the 
New-England States, Federalists and Democrats were arrayed so 
fiercely against each other. Franklin, as a boy, listened eagerly 
to the arguments of his father, enforced by strong and ready 
utterance and earnest gestures. It was in this school that he 
was led to ally himself with the Democratic party so closely, as to 
be ready to follow wherever it might lead. 

Franklin was a very bright and handsome boy, generous, warm- 
hearted, and brave. He won alike the love of old and young. The 
boys on the play-ground loved him. His teachers loved him. The 
neighbors looked upon him with pride and affection. He was by 
instinct a gentleman; always speaking kind words, doing kind 
deeds, with a peculiar unstudied tact which taught him what was 
agreeable. Without developing any precocity of genius, or any 
unnatural devotion to books, he was a good scholar ; in body, in 
mind, in affections, a finely-developed boy. 

When sixteen years of age, in the year 1820, he entered Bow- 
doin College, at Brunswick, Me. The writer there became per- 
sonally acquainted with him. He was one of the most popular 



334 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

young men in college. The purity of his moral character, the 
u-nvarying courtesy of his demeanor, his rank as a scholar, and hia 
genial nature, rendered him a universal favorite. There was 
something very peculiarly winning in his address, and it was evi- 
dently not in the slightest degree studied: it was the simple out- 
gushing of his own magnanimous and loving nature. 

Upon graduating, in the year 1824, Franklin Pierce commenced 
the fetudy of law in the office of Judge Woodbury, one of the 
most distinguished lawyers of the State, and a man of great pri- 
vate worth. The eminent social qualities of the young lawyer, 
his father's prominence as a public man, and the brilliant political 
career into which Judge Woodbury was entering, all tended to 
entice Mr. Pierce into the fascinating yet perilous paths of politi- 
cal life. With all the ardor of his nature, he espoused the cause 
of Gen. Jackson for the presidency. He commenced the prac- 
tice of law in Hillsborough, and was soon elected to represent the 
town in the State Legislature. Here he served for four years. 
The two last years he was chosen speaker of the house by a 
very large vote. 

In 1833, at the age of twenty-nine, he was elected a member of 
Congress. Without taking an active part in the debates, he was 
faithful and laborious in duty, and ever rising in the estimation of 
those with whom he was associated. Strenuously he supported 
the administration of Gen. Jackson, securing not only the con- 
fidence, but the personal friendship, of that extraordinary man. 
^Ir. Pierce sympathized in the fears of the State-rights party, that 
the National Government would consolidate so much power as to 
endanger the liberties of the individual States. In Congress, he 
warmly allied himself with the Democratic party; being apparently 
in sympathy with them in all its measures. 

In 1837, being then but thirt3'-three years of age, he was elected 
to the Senate of the United States ; taking his seat just as Mr. Van 
Buren commenced his administration. He was the youngest mem- 
ber in the Senate. The ablest men our country has produced 
were then among the leaders of the Democracy, — Calhoun, Bu- 
chanan, Benton. Senator Pierce was a remarkably fluent, grace- 
ful speaker, always courteous and good-tempered ; and his speeches 
were listened to by both parties with interest. In the year 1834, 
he married Miss Jane Means Appleton, a lady of rare beauty and 
accomplishments, and one admirably fitted to adorn every statioD 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



335 



with which her husband was honored. Of thres sons who were 
born to them, all now sleep with their mother in the grave. 

In the year 1838, Mr. Pierce, with growing fame, and increasing 
business as a lawyer, took up his residence in Concord, the capital 
of New Hampshire. The citizens of his native town, in token of 
their high esteem, gave him a parting dinner. He dove ted him- 
self with new zeal to his duties at the bar, and took his rank at 
once among the ablest lawyers. His tact, his genial spirit, and 
his unvarying courtesy, gave him extraordinary power with n 
jury. It is said that he was never known to insult, browbeat, or 
endeavor to terrify, a witness. 





GEN. l"Ii:i:(_K LANDING IN MKXICO. 



President Polk, upon his accession to office, appointed Mr. 
Pierce attorney-general of the United States ; but the offei ■ 
was declined, in consequence of numerous professional engage 
meuts at home, and the precarious state of Mrs. Pierce's health. 
He also, about the same time, declined the nomination for gover- 
nor by the Democratic party. The war with Mexico called Mr. 
Pie-ce into the army. Receiving the appointment of brigadior* 



336 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

general, he embarked, with a portion of his troops, at Newport, 
R.I., on the 27th of May, 1847. 

Gen. Pierce landed upon a sand-beach, at a place called Virgara, 
on the 28th of June. There was already an encampment of about 
five hundred men, under the command of Major Lally, at that 
place. He was ordered to make no delay there, and yet no |)repa- 
rations had been made for his departure. About two thousand wild 
mules had been collected from the prairies; but a staur.pede had 
taken pUice, in which fifteen hundred had disappeared. He was 
compelled to remain for spiveral weeks in this encampment, upon 
sand as smooth as a floor, and so hard, that it would scarcely show 
the footprints of a mule. For three miles, the waves dashed 
magnificently on this extensive beach. Though the mornings 
were close, and the heat excessive, by eleven o'clock a fine sea- 
breeze always set in. There were frequent tropical showers, in 
which the rain fell in floods ; and there were peals of thunder 
such as are rarely heard, and flashes of lightning, such as are, per- 
haps, never seen, in regions farther north. 

Every morning, the troops were under drill: they could not 
bear the exposure to the mid-day sun. Though they were not far 
from the city. Gen. Pierce preferred to dwell in his tent upon the 
beach, rather than to occupy any of the houses. Vigorous meas- 
ures were adopted to collect mules and mustangs, in preparation 
for their advance. These animals were generally caught wild 
upon the prairies, unaccustomed to the harness, and even to the 
bridle. Much labor was required in taming them, and in breaking 
them to harness. The troops were kept constantly on the alert, 
in anticipation of an attack from the Mexicans. 

At ten o'clock in the evening of the 7th of July, there was an 
alarm. Musketry-firing was heard in the direction of the ad- 
vanced pickets. The long-roll was beaten, and the whole com 
mand was instantly formed in line of battle. It proved to be a 
false alarm, or rather was caused by the approach of a small band 
of guerillas to the vicinity of the sentinels. The next day, July 9, 
Lieut. Whipple was lured by curiosity to visit the cemetery, 
near the walls of the city. Imprudently, he went unarmed, and 
accompanied but by a single private. Six guerillas attacked, 
overpowered, and seized him ; while the private escaped, and 
informed Gen. Pierce. He immediately despatched a troop of 
cavalry in pursuit; but no trace of Lieut. Whipple could be dis- 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 337 

covered. In a few days, however, they learned that his life had 
been spared, but that he was a prisoner about twelve miles from 
the camp. A detachment was sent by night to surprise the ban- 
ditti. They took the village ; but the guerillas fled, taking their 
prisoner with them. 

At length, on the 13th of July, after a delay of nearly three 
weeks, and after great labor and perplexity, Gen. Pierce was able 
to give orders for an advance. The beautiful beach was covered 
with wagons, mules, horses, and all the imposing paraphernaHa 
of war. 

On the morning of the 14th, eighty wagons started, under Capt. 
Wood. They took the Jalapa Road for San Juan, twelve miles 
distant. There they were to await the remainder of the brigade. 
The heat was so intense, that they could not move between the 
hours of nine in the morning and four in the afternoon. Col. 
Ransom accompanied the train with two companies of infantry. 
Every thing being ready, they moved at an early hour, in fine 
order and spirits. The next day, a detachment of six companies 
was sent off. It was not until the 16th that Gen. Pierce was 
able to leave. In his journal he writes, — 

" After much perplexity and delay, on account of the unbroken 
and intractable teams, I left the camp this afternoon at five o'clock, 
with the Fourth Artillery, Watson's marine corps, a detachment 
of the third dragoons, and about forty wagons. The road was 
very heavy, the wheels were sinking almost to the hubs in sand, 
and the untried and untamed teams almost constantly bolting in 
some part of the train. We were occupied rather in breaking the 
animals to harness than in performing a march. At ten o'clock 
at night, we bivouacked in the darkness and sand by the wagons 
in the road, having made but three miles from camp." 

The next morning, at four o'clock, they were again on the move. 
The road was still heavy with sand, leading over short, steep hills. 
At eight o'clock in the morning, they reached Santa Fe, but eight 
miles from Vera Cruz. The heat of a blazing, torrid sun was now 
overpowering; and the army remained in camp until four o'clock 
in the afternoon. Just before starting, two muleteers came in, 
greatly agitated, bringing the report that five hundred guerillas, 
armed to the teeth, were on the Jalapa Road, rushing on to attack 
the camp. The whole force was immediately called to arms, and 
two pieces of artillery placed in position to command the road. It 

43 



338 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

either proved a false alarm, or the guerillas, taking counsel of 
discretion, changed their course. 

Resuming their march at four o'clock, the column reached San 
Juan about nine o'clock in the evening, in a drenching rain. The 
gu(^rillas had attempted to retard the march by destroying a 
bridge over one of the branches of the San-Juan River ; but the 
New-England men, accustomed to every variety of work, almost 
without delay repaired the structure. All night, all the next day, 
and the next night, the rain poured in such floods as are nowhere 
seen, save in the tropics. The encampment was on low ground, 
along the margin of the stream. As there was nothing but mud 
and water to rest in, it was thought best to continue the march. 

On the 20 th, they reached Telema Nueva, twenty-four miles 
from Vera Cruz. As they were marching along, several musket- 
shots were fired upon them from an eminence on their left. A 
few round-shot were thrown in that direction, and a small detach- 
ment dashed up the hill ; but the enemy had fled. After advancing 
about a mile farther, quite a number of mounted Mexicans were 
seen hovering about, evidently reconnoitring parties. As it was 
supposed that a large force was in the vicinity, all precautionary 
arrangements were made to repel an attack. Three companies of 
infantrj^, and a detachment of dragoons, were sent to flank our 
march by advances through a path on the left of the main road. 
Just as this detachment was returning by the circuitous route 
to the road along which the main body was passing, the enemy 
opened a brisk fire upon them. 

The foe was in ambush, concealed in the dense chaparral on 
each side of the road. Our troops met this attack from unseen 
assailants, and promptly returned the fire. The guns wei-e speed- 
ily unlimbered, and a few discharges of canister silenced the fire 
of the enemy. They fled too rapidly to be caught. We lost six 
wounded, and seven horses shot. A Mexican paper stated their 
loss at forty. 

" I witnessed," writes Gen. Pierce, " with pleasure, the conduct 
of that part of my command immediately engaged on this occasion. 
The first fire of the enemy indicated a pretty formidable force, 
the precise strength of which could not be ascertained, as they 
were completely covered by the chaparral. It was the first time 
on the march that any portion of my command had been fairly 
under fire. I was at the head of the column, on the main road, 



FRANKLIN PIEROE. 339 

and witnessed the whole scene. I saw nothing but coolness and 
courage on the part of both officers and men." 

On the night of the 20th of July, the brigade encamped at Paso 
de Orejas. The rear-guard did not reach the encampment until 
after dark. As it was descending a slope towards the camp, a 
band of guerillas was seen approaching. All the day they had 
been noticed on the distant hills, watching the advance of our 
lines. As they approached menacingly within cannon-range, a 
gun was brought to bear upon them ; and a few discharges put 
them to flight. Paso de Orejas is on the west side of a beautiful 
stream, spanned by a substantial bridge. 

At four o'clock on the morning of July 21, they again broke 
camp, and pursued their course towards Puente Nacionale, antici- 
pating an attack at every exposed point. When they reached the 
summit of a long hill which descended on the west to the Antigua 
River, Gen. Pierce halted his command, and with his glass care- 
fully examined the country before them. In the distance could be 
seen the little village of Puente Nacionale, on the western side of 
the river. This stream is also crossed by a bridge. A few lancers 
could be seen in the village, in their gay uniforms, riding rapidly 
from one position to another, and flourishing their red flags as if 
in defiance. A strong barricade, defended by a breastwork, was 
thrown across the bridge. A large body of the enemy was posted 
on a bluff one hundred and fifty feet high, which commanded the 
structure over which the little army must pass. It was impossi- 
ble to turn their position. 

Gen. Pierce rode forward to reconnoitre the enemy's works 
more closely. He then brought forward his artillery, and, by some 
deadly discharges, swept the bridge, and dispersed the lancers. 
A few shots were also thrown at the heights, which so distracted 
the attention of the enemy, that Col. Bonham, with a few compa- 
nies of picked men, made a rush upon the bridge with a loud 
battle-cry, leaped the barricade of brush and timber, reached the 
village, rallied his men under cover of its buildings, and rushed 
up the steep bluff", to gain its summit just in time to see the be- 
wildered and disorganized foe disappear in the distance. One 
giand cheer from the victors on the bluff", echoed back by the 
troops below, greeted this heroic achievement. The remainder 
ot the command followed rapidly, and in good order. A companj 
of dragoons dashed through the village, hoping to cut off" the 



340 LIVES VF THE PRESIDENTS. 

retreat of the fugitives ; but terror had added such wings to their 
flight, that they had entirely disappeared in the dense chaparral 
in their rear. 

Col. Bonham's horse was shot, and Gen. Pierce received a mus- 
ket-ball through the rim of his hat. It is indeed wonderful that 
so few were hurt, when the bullets, for a short time, rattled so 
thickly around them; but the Mexicans on the bluff took poor 
aim, and most of their balls passed over our heads. Here they 
encamped for the night, at a distance of thirty miles from Vera 
Cruz. Gen. Pierce established his headquarters at a large and 
splendid estate which he found here, belonging to Gen. Santa Anna. 

At four o'clock the next morning, July 22, the brigade was 
again in motion. As they moved along, upon all the surrounding 
heights armed bands of Mexicans were seen watching them. 
They kept, however, at too great a distance to be reached by 
bullet or ball. At one point of the march, the head of the 
column was fired upon by a few guerillas hidden in the chapar- 
ral, who succeeded in wounding three horses ; but the skirmish- 
ers thrown out in pursuit of them could find no trace even of their 
ambuscade. At length, on this day's tramp, they came in sight 
of an old Spanish fort, which commanded both the road, and a 
bridge that crossed a stream at this point. The bridge was barri- 
caded, with the evident intention of defending it. Here Gen. 
Pierce expected a stern conflict ; but, to his surprise, he found 
both fort and barricade silent and solitary. Removing the obstruc- 
tions, they came to another stream, much broader, also spanned 
by a bridge. 

" It was," writes Gen. Pierce, '' a magnificent work of art, com- 
bining great strength and beauty, — a work of the old Spaniards (so 
many of which are found upon this great avenue from the coast), 
fitted to awaken the admiration and wonder of the traveller. The 
fact that the main arch, a span of about sixty feet, had been blown 
up, first burst upon me as I stood upon the brink of the chasm, 
with a perpendicular descent of nearly a hundred feet to the bed 
of a rapid stream much swollen by the recent rains. As far as 
the eye could reach, above and below, the banks on the west side, 
of vast height, descended precipitously, almost in a perpendicular 
line, to the water's edge. 

'' This sudden and unexpected barrier, I need not say, was some- 
what withering to the confidence with which I had been ani- 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 341 

mated. The news having extended back along the Hne, my 
officers soon crowded around me ; and the deep silence that 
ensued was more significant than any thing which could have been 
spoken. After a few moments'" pause, this silence was broken by 
many short epigraramatical remarks, and more questions. * We 
have it before us now,' said Col. Hebert. ' The destruction of this 
magnificent and expensive work of a past generation could not 
iiave been ordered but upon a deliberate and firm purpose of a 
stern resistance.' — 'This people have destroyed,' said another, 
' what they never will rebuild.' " 

What to do was now the question. In the mean time, a small 
body of infantry had descended the steep by the aid of trees, 
rocks, and stumps, and, folding the stream, had taken possession 
of a stone church on the other side. The line of wagons, brought 
to a stand, extended back along the road for a distance of a mile 
and a half For miles around, the growth was dwarfed and scrub- 
by, affording no timber to reconstruct the arch. It was now 
night ; and weary, and not a little despondent, all sank to repose. 

It so happened that there was in the army a Maine lumberman, 
Capt. Bodfish, who had been accustomed to surmount many diffi- 
culties of this kind in the logging-swamps of his native State. Gen. 
Pierce the next morning, at an early hour, sent for him. With a 
practised eye, he examined the ground, and said that he could con- 
struct a road over which the train could pass. 

" How much time do you need," inquired Gen. Pierce, " to com- 
plete the road ? " 

'' That depends," said he, " upon the number of men employed. 
If you give me five hundred men, I will furnish you a road over 
which the train can pass safely in four hours." 

The detail was immediately ordered, and in three hours the 
trains were in motion. " Bodfish's road," says Gen. Pierce, " unless 
this nation shall be regenerated, will be the road at that place, for 
Mexican diligences, for half a century to come." Before the sun 
v;ent down on the evening of the 23d, every wagon had passed 
without the slightest accident. There was great glee that night 
in the camp. Many were the jokes about Mexican stupidity and 
Yankee cunning. All were now eager to press on ; for all felt 
new assurance in the final success of their bold enterprise. 

They were approaching Cerro Gordo. From the heights in that 
vicinity, the Mexicans could easily embarrass the march by a 



842 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

plunging fire. Gen. Pierce himself, with a body of cavalry, set 
out in the darkness and the rain to occupy the eminences. The 
darkness was so great, that one's hand could scarcely be seen be- 
fore him; and it soon became impossible to advance. The detach 
ment slept upon their arms until the earliest dawn of the morning, 
when they pressed on, and succeeded in seizing the important po- 
sition. A few Mexicans were seen upon one of the heights, who 
discharged a volley of bullets, harmless from the distance, upon a 
portion of the train. A six-pounder was brought forward, which 
threw a few canister-shot into the midst of them; and they scat- 
tered in all directions. 

They soon reached another of the magnificent estates of Santa 
Anna, well stocked with fat cattle. Gen. Pierce, in his journal, 
says very naively, " As there was no owner of Avhom to purchase, 
I have sent out detachments to supply our wants. The boys had 
great fun in playing * hunt bufiBlo ; ' and, in the excitement of 
the chase, some of them wandered to an imprudent distance from 
the camp. One of them got a bullet-shot through the thigh in 
consequence. All the night, guerillas were prowling about the 
camp." 

Upon Santa Anna's estate, or hacienda as it was called, they 
found delightful encampment upon a green lawn, gently sloping 
to a fine stream of clear, pure water. They were then but eight 
miles from Jalapa. 

On the morning of the 24th, they left, with regret, their delight- 
ful encampment at Encero. The verdant lawn, the sparkling 
stream rippling over its pebbly bed, and the cultivated region 
around, reminded all of their New-England homes. At noon, they 
reached Jalapa unopposed. Here Gen. Pierce rode to an inn kept 
by a Frenchman, and dined. At the inn, he met several well- 
dressed, intelligent Mexicans. They were profuse in their com- 
mendations of the achievements of the Yankees. The army 
proceeded about three miles beyond the city, and encamped by 
another fine stream, " which drives the spindles of Don Garcia, a 
quarter of a mile below us." He there ascertained, that, beyond 
doubt, the gentlemen with whom he had conversed in the inn at 
Jalapa were guerillas in disguise. They were ever hovering 
around the skirts of the army, ready to murder and to rob as they 
could find opportunity. That very day, a servant, who had been 
sent to water a horse, not six rods from the road, was killed, and 
his horse stolen. 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 343 

The next day, the 27th, as they made a short tarry in their en- 
campment just out from Jalapa, several soldiers, who had wandered, 
in violation of orders, from the camp to the vicinity of the sur- 
rounding farms, never returned. It is supposed that they were 
either killed or captured. 

On the morning of the 29th, at seven o'clock, the march was again 
resumed. The sick-list was increasing, and there were over four 
hundred on the surgeon's roll. Few inexperienced in such mat- 
ters can imagine the care and skill requisite to move a body, even 
of twenty-four hundred men, hundreds of miles, with four hundred 
sick men in wagons, so that the wants of all shall be attended to, 
and that every man shall have his regular and proper meals. 
Fruits were abundant along the line of march, and the soldiers 
indulged freely. The rain was also falling in torrents, which kept 
all drenched to the skin, and penetrated the tents, while the flood 
rushed in torrents through the gullies. 

The morning of the 30th found them near the Castle of Perote. 
"I reached the castle," Gen. Pierce writes, "before dark; and 
Col. Windcoop, who was in command of the castle, with Capt. 
Walker's elegant company of mounted riflemen, kindly tendered 
me his quarters. But I adhered to a rule from which I have 
never deviated on the march, — to see the rear of the command 
safely in camp ; and, where they pitched their tents, to pitch my 
own. The rear-guard, in consequence of the broken condition of 
the road, did not arrive until nine o'clock ; when our tents w«re 
pitched in darkness, and in the sand which surrounds the castle 
on all sides." 

Here they made a halt of two or three days to repair damages, 
and to refresh the sick and the exhausted. Two hundred of the 
sick were sent to the hospital in the castle. The next day, Capt. 
Ruff arrived with a company of cavalry, having been sent by Gen. 
Scott to ascertain the whereabouts and condition of Gen. Pierce's 
command, and to afford him assistance if needed. Soon they re- 
sumed their march, and, on the 7th of August, reached the main 
body of the army under the commander-in-chief, at Puebla. Gen. 
Pierce had conducted twenty-four hundred men on this arduous 
n arch, without the loss of a single wagon. 

Gen. Scott had been waiting at Puebla for the arrival of the 
re-enforcement under Gen. Pierce. He was now prepared to move 
v'igorously forward in his attack upon the city of Mexico. Santa 



S44 UVES OF THE PRESIDa'NTS. 

Anna had an advance-guard of about seven thousand men at Con 
treras. Gen. Scott wished to cut oflf these detached troops from 
the main body of the Mexican army, and, by destroying their 
communications with the city, to have them at his mercy. He 
therefore sent a division of his army, by a circuitous route, to 
occupy the villages and strong positions in their rear. To hide 
this movement from the foe, and to distract their attention, Gen. 
Pierce was ordered, with four thousand men, to make an impetu- 
ous assault upon their front. 

It was indeed severe service upon which he was thus detached. 
The enemy had nearly two to his one. They were in their own 
chosen positions, and were protected by intrenchments, from which, 
unexposed, they could hurl a storm of shot and shell into the faces 
of their assailants. The ground over which the charge was to be 
made was exceedingly rough, bristling with sharp points of rocks, 
and broken by ridges and gullies. The Mexicans threw out skir- 
mishers, who were posted in great force among the irregularities 
of this broken ground. As our troops advanced, they were met 
with a murderous fire of musketry from these concealed riflemen, 
while the heavy balls from the Mexican batteries shivered the 
rocks around them. Had the Mexicans been expert gunners. Gen. 
Pierce's command would have been annihilated ; but, fortunately 
or providentially, most of the shot from the intrenched camp 
passed over the heads of our troops. 

" In the midst of this fire, Gen. Pierce," writes Hawthorne, his 
eloquent biographer, " being the only officer mounted in the bri- 
gade, leaped his horse upon an abrupt eminence, and addressed the 
colonels and captains of the regiments, as they passed, in a few 
stirring words, reminding them of the honor of their country, of 
the victory their steady valor would contribute to achieve. Press- 
ing forward to the head of the column, he had nearly reached the 
practicable ground that lay beyond, when his horse slipped among 
the rocks, thrust his foot into a crevice, and fell, breaking his own 
leg, and crushing his rider heavily beneath him." 

The general was stunned by the fall, and almost insensible. 
His orderly hastened to his assistance, and found him very se- 
verely bruised, and sufiering agonizingly from a sprain of the left 
knee, upon which the horse had fallen. The bullets and balls 
of the enemy were flying thickly around. As the orderly at- 
tempted to assist the wounded general to reach the shelter of a 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 34? 

projecting rock, a shell buried itself in the earth at their feet, and, 
exploding, covered them with stones and sand. ''That was a 
lucky miss," said Gen. Pierce calmly. 

Leaving him under shelter of the rock, the orderly went in search 
of a surgeon. Fortunately, he met Dr. Ritchie near by, who was 
following the advancing column. He rendered such assistance as 
the circumstances would permit; and soon Gen. Pierce recovered 
full consciousness, and became anxious to rejoin his troops. Not- 
withstanding the surgeon's remonstrances, he leaned upon his 
orderly's shoulder, and, hobbling along, reached a battery, where 
he found a horse, whose saddle had just been emptied by a Mexi- 
can bullet. He was assisted into the saddle. "You will not 
be able to keep your seat," said one. " Then you must tie me 
on," replied the general. Thus bruised and sprained, and agon- 
ized with pain, he again rode forward into the hottest of the 
battle. 

Till nightfall, the conflict raged unabated. It was eleven at 
night before Gen. Pierce left his saddle. He had withdrawn his 
troops from their exposed position, and assembled them in a shel- 
tered spot, where they were to pass the night. The rain was 
then falling in torrents. It is a curious phenomenon, that it often 
rains almost immediately after a battle. There were no tents ; 
there was no protection for officers or men : drenched, exhausted, 
hungry, they threw themselves upon the flooded sods for sleep. 
Gen. Pierce lay down upon an ammunition-wagon ; but the 
torture of his inflamed and swollen knee would not allow him a 
moment of repose. 

But one hour after midnight of that dark and stormy night had 
passed, when Gen. Pierce received orders from Gen. Scott to put 
his brigade in a new position in front of the enemy's works, to be 
prepared for a new assault with the earliest dawn of the morning. 
In the midst of the gloom and the storm, the movement was 
made. 

As soon as a few glimmers of light were seen in the east, these 
men of invincible resolution and iron sinews were again on the 
move. Gen. Pierce was again in his saddle, and at the head of his 
brigade. The Mexican camp was attacked simultaneously in front 
and rear. In seventeen minutes, the " stars and stripes " floated 
over the ramparts of the foe ; and the cheers of the victors pro- 
claimed that the conquest was complete. Many prisoners were 

44 



346 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

taken. Those who escaped fled in wildest disorder towards Cho= 
rubusco. 

Gen. Pierce almost forgot exhaustion, wounds, and agony, in 
his eager pursuit of the fugitives. The roads and fields were 
strewn with the dead and the dying, and every conceivable form 
of human mutilation and misery. The pursuit continued until 
one o'clock. The victors then found themselves checked by the 
strong fortifications of Cherubusco and San Antonio, where Santa 
Anna was prepared to make another desperate stand. Gen. Scott 
feared that Santa Anna might escape, and concentrate all his 
troops within the walls of the city of Mexico. To prevent this, 
he sent an aide, Col. Noah E. Smith, to call Gen. Pierce to his 
presence, that he might give him directions to take a route by 
which he could assail the foe in their rear. Col. Smith met the 
general at the head of his brigade. He writes, — 

" Gen. Pierce was exceedingly thin, worn down by the fatigue 
and pain of the day and night before, and then evidently suffering 
severely. Still there was a glow in his eye, as the cannon boomed, 
that showed within him a spirit ready for the conflict." 

Gen. Scott was sitting on horseback beneath a tree, issuing 
orders to his staff, as Gen. Pierce rode up. The commander-in- 
chief had heard of the accident which had befallen the general, 
and, as he noticed his aspect of pain and physical exhaustion, said 
to him, — 

" Pierce, my dear fellow, you are badly injured. You are not 
fit to be in the saddle." 

"Yes, general," was the reply: "I am, in a case like this." 

" You cannot touch your foot to the stirrup," said Scott. 

" One I can," answered Pierce. 

Gen. Scott looked at him for a moment in silence, and then said 
fn decided tones, " You are rash. Gen. Pierce : we shall lose you, 
and we cannot spare you. It is my duty to order you back to 
St. Augustine." 

But Gen. Pierce pleaded so earnestly that he might be j>ermit- 
ted to remain, and take part in the great battle then imminent, that 
Scott at last reluctantly consented, and ordered him to advance 
with his brigade. His path led over a marsh, intersected with 
ditches filled with water. Over several of these ditches, the gen- 
eral leaped his horse. At last he came to one ten feet wide and 
fiix feet deep. He was there compelled to leave his horse. He, 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 347 

however, succeeded in getting across the ditch, and was there 
with his troops under fire. He had now gone to the farthest 
point of physical endurance. Entirely overcome by sleeplessness, 
exhaustion, pain, and fatigue, he sank to the ground, fainting, and 
almost insensible. 

Some soldiers hastened to lift him, and bear him from the field. 
He partiall}^ revived, and, resisting, said, " No : do not carry me 
off. Let me lie here." There he remained, in the midst of his 
strugghng troops, exposed to the shot of the foe, while the tre- 
mendous battle of Cherubusco raged around him. At length, the 
cheers of our men announced their victory. Santa Anna sent a 
flag of truce, proposing an armistice. Gen. Pierce was appointed 
one of the commissioners to meet him. He was unable to walk, 
or to mount his horse without assistance. He was, however, 
helped into his saddle, and rode to Tacubaya ; and the conference 
was held at the house of the British consul from late in the after- 
noon until four o'clock the next morning. 

They could not come to satisfactory terms, and military opera- 
tions were soon renewed. Not long after, on the 8th of Septem- 
ber, the sanguinary battle of Molino del Rey, the fiercest conflict 
of the war, was fought. Gen. Worth, with three thousand men, 
attacked fourteen thousand Mexicans. Gen. Pierce was ordered 
to his support. Just as he reached the field, a shell burst almost 
beneath the feet of his horse ; and he narrowly escaped being 
thrown over a precipice. Again the vanquished enemy fled, and 
made another stand under protection of the castle of Chepultepec. 
In the heroic storming of that castle, on the IStli of September, 
Gen. Pierce could take no part, though his brigade performed 
gallant service. But their general had been conveyed to the 
headquarters of Gen. Worth, where he was taken so extremely 
ill, that he was unable to leave his bed for thirty-six hours. This 
was the last great struggle. The city of Mexico now fell into the 
bands of the Americans. Gen. Pierce remained in the captured 
city until December, when he returned from these strange scenes 
of violence and blood to the wife and child whom he had left 
about nine months before among the peaceful hills of New Hamp- 
ehire. 

When Gen. Pierce reached his home in his native State, he 
was received enthusiastically by the advocates of the Mexican 
War, and coldly by its opponents. He resumed the exercise of 



848 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

his profession, very frequently taking an active part in political 
questions, giving his cordial support to the proslavery wing of 
the Democratic party. The compromise measures met cordially 
with his approval ; and he strenuously advocated the enforce- 
ment of the fugitive-slave law, which so shocked the religious 
sensibilities of the North. He thus became distinguished as a 
" Northern man with Southern principles." The strong partisans 
of slavery in the South consequently regarded him as a man 
whom they could safely trust in office to carry out theii plans. 

On the 12th of June, 1852, the Democratic convention met in 
Baltimore to nominate a candidate for the presidency. For four 
days they continued in session, and in thirty-five ballotings no 
one had obtained a two-thirds vote. Not a vote had thus far been 
thrown for Gen. Pierce. Then the Virginia delegation brought 
forward his name. There were fourteen more ballotings, during 
which Gen. Pierce constantly gained strength, until, at the forty- 
ninth ballot, he received two hundred and eighty-two votes, and 
all other candidates eleven. Gen. Winfield Scott was the Whig 
candidate. Gen. Pierce was chosen with great unanimity. Only 
four States — Vermont, Massachusetts, Kentucky, and Tennessee 
— cast their electoral votes against him. On the 4th of March, 
1853, he was inaugurated President of the United States. 

His administration proved one of the most stormy our country 
had ever experienced. The controversy between slavery and 
freedom was then approaching its culminating point. It became 
evident that there was an " irrepressible conflict " between them, 
and that this nation could not long exist " half slave and half free." 
President Pierce, during the whole of his administration, did every 
thing which could be done to conciliate the South ; but it was all 
in vain. The conflict every year grew more violent, and threats 
of the dissolution of the Union were borne to the north on every 
southern breeze. 

At the demand of slavery, the Missouri Compromise was re- 
pealed, and all the Territories of the Union Avere thrown open to 
slavery. The Territory of Kansas, west of Missouri, was settled 
by emigrants mainly from the North. According to law, they 
were about to meet, and decide whether slavery or freedom should 
he the law of that realm. It was certain that they would decide 
for freedom. 

Slavery in Missouri and other Southern States rallied her armed 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 349 

legions, marched them in military array into Kansas, took pos- 
session of the polls, drove away the citizens, deposited theii own 
votes by handfuls, went through the farce of counting them, and 
then declared, that, by an overwhelming majority, slavery was es- 
tablished in Kansas. These facts nobody denied ; and yet Presi- 
dent Pierce's administration felt bound to respect the decision 
obtained by such votes. 

This armed mob from other States then chose a legislature of 
strong proslavery men ; convened them in a small town near Misr 
souri, where they could be protected from any opposition from the 
free-soil citizens of the State ; and called this band, thus fraudu- 
lently elected, the " Legislature of Kansas." No one could deny 
these facts ; and yet President Pierce deemed it his duty to recog- 
nize this body as the lawful legislature. 

This bogus legislature met, and enacted a code of proslavery 
laws which would have disgraced savages. Neither freedom of 
speech nor of the press was allowed, and death was the doom 
of any one who should speak or write against slavery ; and yet 
President Pierce assumed that these laws were binding upon the 
community. 

The armed mob of invasion consisted of nearly seven thousand 
men. As they commenced their march, one of their leaders thus 
addressed them : — 

''To those who have qualms of conscience as to violating laws, 
State or National, the time has come when such impositions must 
be disregarded, as your rights and property are in danger. I ad- 
vise you, one and all, to enter every election district in Kansas, and 
vote at the point of the bowie-knife and revolver. Neither give 
nor take quarter, as our case demands it. It is enough that the 
slaveholding interest wills it, from which there is no appeal." 

They marched with artillery, banners, music, and rr<ounted 
horsemen. By such a force, infant Kansas was subjugated, and 
the most sacred rights of American freemen were trampled in the 
dust. When the army returned to the city of Independence in 
Missouri, the " squatter sovereign " of that place said, " They 
report that not a single antislavery man will be in the Legislature 
of Kansas." 

The citizens of Kansas, the great majority of whom were free- 
State men, met in convention, and adopted the following resolve : — 

" Resolved, That the body of men, who, for the past two months, 



350 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

have been passing laws for the people of our Territory, moved, 
counselled, and dictated to by the demagogues of Missouri, are to 
us a foreign body, representing only the lawless invaders who 
elected them, and not the people of the territory ; that we^ repu- 
diate their action as the monstrous consummation of an act of 
violence, usurpation, and fraud, unparalleled in the history of the 
Union." 

The free-State people of Kansas also sent a petition to the Gen- 
eral Government, imploring its protection. In reply, the President 
issued a proclamation, declaring that the legislature thus created 
must be recognized as the legitimate legislature of Kansas, and 
that its laws were binding upon the people ; and that, if necessary, 
the whole force of the governmental arm would be put forth to 
enforce those laws. 

Such was the condition of affairs when President Pierce ap- 
proached the close of his four-years' term of oflSce. The North had 
become thoroughly alienated from him. The antislavery senti- 
ment, goaded b}^ these outrages, had been rapidly increasing ; and 
all the intellectual ability and social worth of President Pierce 
wore forgotten in deep reprehension of these administrative acts. 
The slaveholders of the South also, unmindful of the fidelity with 
which he had advocated those measures of Government which 
they approved, and perhaps, also, feeling that he had rendered 
himself so unpopular as no longer to be able acceptably to serve 
them, ungratefully dropped him, and nominated James Buchanan 
as the Democratic candidate to succeed him in the presidency. 
John C. Fremont was the candidate of the Free-soil party. 

James Buchanan was the successful candidate. He had pledged 
himself to stand upon the same platform which bis predecessor 
had occupied, " lowered never an inch." On the 4th of March, 
1857, President Pierce retired to his home in Concord, N.H. Of 
three children, two had died, and his only surviving child had been 
killed before his eyes by a railroad accident : and his wife, one of 
the most estimable and accomplished of ladies, was rapidly sink- 
ing in consumption. The hour of dreadful gloom soon came, and 
he was left alone in the world, without wife or child. 

When the terrible Rebellion burst forth, which divided our coun- 
try into two parties, and two only, Mr. Pierce remained steadfast 
in the principles which he had always cherished, and gave his sym- 
pathies to that proslavery party with which he had ever been 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 351 

allied. He declined to do any thing, either by voice or pen, to 
strengthen the hands of the National Governmeiit. He con- 
tinued to reside in Concord until the time of his death, which 
occured in October, 1869. He was one of the most genial and 
social of men, an honored communicant of the Episcopal Church, 
and one of the kindest of neighbors. Generous to a fault, he 
contributed liberally of his moderate means for the alleviation 
of suffering and want, and many of his townspeople were often 
gladdened by his material bounty. 



CHAPTER XV. 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



Uis Childhood's Home. — Devotion to Study. — Scholarship, and Purity of Character. — Con- 
gressional Career. — Political Views. — Secretary of State. — Minister to the Court of St. 
.Tames. — Ostend Manifesto. — Elected to the Presidency. — The New-Haven Corre- 
spondence. — Disasters of his Administration. — Retirement. 

James Buchanan, the fifteenth President of the United States, 
was born in a small frontier town, at the foot of the eastern ridge 




i:esidenck of jajies ijuchanan. 



of the Alleghanies, in Franklin County, Penn., on the 23d of 
April, 1791. The place where the humble cabin of his father 
stood was called Stony Batter. It was a wild and romantic spot 
in a gorge of the mountains, with towering summits rising grandly 



352 




ENGRAVEb i-.A.rhbc 



_-nuXXS LIVES QF THE PKESIDKN' 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 353' 

all aronnd. His father was a native of the north of Ireland; a poor 
man, who had emigrated in 1783, with little property save his 
own strong arms. Five years after his arrival in this country, he 
married Elizabeth Spear, the daughter of a respectable farmer, and, 
with his ytung bride, plunged into the wilderness, staked hif 
claim, reared his log-hut, opened a clearing with his axe, and 
settled down there to perform his obscure part in the drama of 
life. 

In this secluded home, where James was born, he remained for 
eight years, enjoying but few social oi 'ntellectual advantages. 
His father was industrious, frugal, and prosperous, and was un- 
usually intelligent for a man in his situation. His mother also 
was a woman of superior character, possessing sound judgment, 
and a keen appreciation of the beautiful in nature and in art. 
When James was eight years of age, his father removed to the 
village of Mercersburg, where his son was placed at school, and 
commenced a course of study in English, Latin, and Greek. His 
progress was rapid ; and, at the age of fourteen, he entered Dick- 
inson College, at Carlisle. Here he developed remarkable talent, 
and took his stand among the first scholars in the institution. His 
application to study was intense, and yet his native powers 
enabled him to master the most abstruse subjects with facility. 

In the year 1809, he graduated with the highest honors of bis 
class. He was then eighteen years of age ; tall and graceful, 
vigorous in health, fond of athletic sports, an unerring shot, and 
enlivened with an exuberant flow of animal spirits. He imme- 
diately commenced the study of law in the city of Lancaster, and 
was admitted to the bar in 1812, when he was but twenty-ono 
years of age. Very rapidly he rose in his profession, and at onco 
took undisputed stand with the ablest lawyers of the State. 
When but twenty-six years of age, unaided by counsel, he suc- 
cessfully defended before the State Senate one of the judges of 
the State, who was tried upon articles of impeachment. At the 
age of thirty, it was generally admitted that he stood at the head 
of the bar ; and there was no lawyer in the State who had a more 
extensive or a more lucrative practice. 

Reluctantly, he then, in 1820, consented to stand a candidate for 
Congress. He was elected ; and, for ten years, he remained a 
member of the Lower House. During the vacations of Congress, he 
occasionally tried some important cause. In 1831, he retired 

4& 



354 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

altogether from the toils of his profession, having acquired an 
ample fortune. 

In 1812, just after Mr. Buchanan had entered upon the practice 
of the law, our second war with England occurred. With all his 
powers, he sustained the Government, eloquently urging tho 
vigorous prosecution of the war, and even enlisting as a private 
soldier to assist in repelling the British, who had sacked Wash- 
ington, and were threatening Baltimore. 

Mr. Buchanan was at that time a Federalist. This term took 
its rise from those who approved of the Federal Constitution, with 
all the powers which it gave to the National Government. The 
anti-Federalists, who thought that the Constitution gave the Cen- 
tral Government too much power, and the State Governments too 
little, took the name of Republicans. But, when the Constitution 
was adopted by both parties, Jefferson truly said, " We are all 
Federalists ; we are all Republicans." Still it was subsequently 
found that the Constitution allowed some latitude of construction. 
Consequently, those who approved of a liberal construction, in 
favor of the General Government, still retained the name of Fede- 
ralists; while those who were in favor of a strict construction, not 
allowing the Central Government one hair's breadth more of 
power than the letter of the Constitution demanded, retained the 
name of Republicans. 

The opposition of the Federal party to the war with England, 
and the alien and sedition laws of John Adams, brought the 
party into dispute ; and the name of Federalist became a reproach. 
Mr. Buchanan, almost immediately upon entering Congress, began 
to incline more and more to the policy of the Republicans. 

As a member of Congress, Mr. Buchanan was faithful to hia 
duties. He was always in his seat, and took an active part in 
every important question. The speeches which he made indi- 
cated great care in their preparation, and were distinguished for 
depth of thought and persuasive eloquence. The great question, 
as to the power of the National Government to promote internal 
improvements, agitated Congress. Mr. Buchanan was in sym- 
pathy with the Republicans, and voted against any appropriation 
to repair the Cumberland Road. The bill, however, passed Con- 
gress. President Monroe vetoed it. Mr. Buchanan argued that 
Congress was not authorized to establish a protective tariff; that it 
was authorized to impose a tariff for revenue only. In an earnest 
speech upon this subject, he said, — 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 365 

" If I know myself, I am a politician neither of the East nor 
of the West, of the North nor of the South. I therefore shall 
forever avoid any expressions, the direct tendency of which must 
be to create sectional jealousies, and at length disunion, — that 
worst and last of all political calamities." 

In the stormy presidential election of 1824, in which Jackson, 
Clay, Crawford, and John Quincy Adams, were candidates, Mr. 
Buchanan espoused the cause of Gen. Jackson, and unrelentingly 
opposed the administration of Mr. Adams. When our Govern- 
ment undertook the singular task of regulating the dress in 
which our ambassadors should appear in foreign courts, prohibit- 
ing the court-costume which most of those monarchs required, 
Mr. Buchanan supported the measure. 

" Imagine," said he, " a grave and venerable statesman, who 
never attended a militia-training in his life, but who has been 
elevated to the station of a foreign minister in consequence of 
his civil attainments, appearing at court, arrayed in this military 
coat, with a chapeau under his arm, and a small sword dangling 
at his side 1 What a ridiculous spectacle would a grave lawyer or 
judge of sixty years of age present, arrayed in such a costume !" 

Gen. Jackson, upon his elevation to the presidency, appointed 
Mr. Buchanan minister to Russia. The duties of his mission he 
performed with ability, which gave satisfaction to all pa 'ties. 
Upon his return, in 1833, he was elected to a seat in the United- 
States Senate. He there met, as his associates, Webster, Clay, 
Wright, and Calhoun. He advocated the measure proposed by 
President Jackson, of making reprisals against France to enforce 
the payment of our claims against that country ; and defended 
the course of the President in his unprecedented and wholesale 
removals from office of those who were not the supporters of his 
administration. Upon this question, he was brought into direct 
collision with Henry Clay. He also, with voice and vote, advo- 
cated expunging from the journal of the Senate the vote of cen- 
sure against Gen. Jackson for removing the deposits. Earnestly 
he opposed the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, 
and urged the prohibition of the circulation of antislavery docu- 
ments by the United-States mails. 

In December, 1835, there was a fire in New York, Avhich con- 
sumed property amounting to eighteen millions of dollars. The 
merchants, overwhelmed by this calamity, owed the United States 



356 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the sum of three million six hundred thousand dollars. A bill 
was introduced for their relief, simply asking for an extension of 
payment, with ample security. Generously and eloquently Mr. 
Buchanan advocated the bill. In the discussion of the question 
respecting the admission of Michigan and Arkansas into the 
Union, Mr. Buchanan " defined his position " by saying, — 

" The older I grow, the more I am inclined to be what is called 
a State-rights man." 

As to petitions . on the subject of slavery, he advocated that 
they should be respectfully received ; and that the reply should 
be returned, that Congress had no power to legislate upon the 
subject. " Congress," said he, " might as well undertake to inter* 
fere with slavery under a foreign government as in any of the 
States where it now exists." Many of his speeches developed 
great ability ; all, earnestness and deep conviction ; while he 
invariably treated his opponents in the most courteous manner, 
never allowing himself to exhibit the slightest irritation. 

M. de Tocqueville, in his renowned work upon " Democracy in 
America," foresaw the trouble which was inevitable from the 
doctrine of State sovereignty as held by Calhoun and Buchanan. 
He was convinced that the National Government was losing that 
strength which was essential to its own existence, and that the 
State'? were assuming powers which threatened the perpetuity of 
the Dnion. Mr. Buchanan reviewed this book in the Senate, and 
declared the fears of De Tocqueville to be groundless : and yet he 
lived to sit in the presidential chair, and see State after State, in 
accordance with his own views of State rights, breaking from the 
Union, thus crumbling our republic /nto ruins ; while the un- 
happy old man folded his arms in despair, declaring that the 
National Constitution invested him with no power to arrest 
the destruction. 

When Mr. Tyler succeeded President Harrison, and, to the 
excessive disappointment of the Whigs, vetoed their bank bill, 
Mr. Buchanan warmly commended his course. In reply to the 
argument, that Mr. Tyler ought to have signed the bill in fidelity 
to the party which elected him, he said, — 

" If he had approved that bill, he would have deserved to be 
denounced as a self-destroyer, as false to the whole course of his 
past life, false to every principle of honor, and false to the sacred 
obligation of his oath to support the Constitution." 



JAMES BUCHAXAN. 357 

Mr. Buchanan opposed the ratification of the Webster-Ash- 
bi.rton Treaty in reference to our North-eastern boundary ; and 
advocated the annexation of Texas, that it might be cut up into 
slave States, " to afford that security to the Southern and South- 
western slave States which they have a right to demand." Upon 
Mr. Polk's accession to the presidency, Mr. Buchanan became 
Secretary of State, and, as such, took his share of the responsi- 
bility in the conduct of the Mexican War. Mr. Polk assumed 
that crossing the Nueces by the American troops into the dis- 
puted territory was not wrong, but for the Mexicans to cross 
the Rio Grande into that territory was a declaration of war. No 
candid man can read with pleasure the account of the course our 
Government pursued in that movement. At the close of Mr. 
Polk's administration, Mr. Buchanan retired to private life ; but 
still hw intellectual ability, and great experience as a statesman, 
enabled him to exert a powerful private influence in national 
affairs. 

He identified himself thoroughly and warmly with the party 
devoted to the perpetuation and extension of slavery, and brought 
all the energies of his mind to bear against the Wilmot Proviso. 
He gave his cordial approval to the compromise measures of 1850, 
whioii included the fugitive-slave law. Mr. Pierce, upon his elec- 
tion to the presidency, honored Mr. Buchanan with the mission to 
England. The plan then arose to purchase Cuba. It was feared 
that Spain might abolish slavery in Cuba, and thus endanger the 
institution in our Southern States. To consider this important 
question, Mr. Buchanan, and Messrs. Mason and Soule, our minis- 
ters to France and Spain, met at Ostend. The substance of the 
result of their deliberations is contained in the foUowins: words : — 

" After we shall have offered Spain a price for Cuba far beyond 
its present value, and this shall have been refused, it will then bo 
time to consider the question, ' Does Cuba, in the possession of 
Spain, seriously endanger our internal peace and the existence 
of our cherished Union?' Should this question be answered in 
the affirmative, then by every law, human and divine, we shall 
be justified in wresting it from Spain, if we possess the power." 

This Ostend Manifesto created intense excitement, both in this 
country and in Europe ; but our own internal troubles which soon 
arose caused it to be forgotten. In the year 1856, a national Demo- 
cratic convention nominated Mr. Buchanan for the presidency. In 



358 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the platform adopted by the convention, it was stated, in connec- 
tion with other principles to which all parties would assent, " that 
Congress has no power under the Constitution to interfere with 
or control the domestic institutions of the several States ; that 
the foregoing proposition covers the whole subject of slavery agi- 
tation in Congress ; that the Democratic party will adhere to a 
faithful execution of the compromise measures, the act of reclaim- 
ing fugitives from service or labor included ; that the Democratic 
party will resist all attempts at renewing, in Congress or out of it, 
the agitation of the slavery question, under whatever shape or 
color the attempt may be made ; and that the American Democ- 
racy recognize and adopt the principles of non-interference by 
Congress With slavery in State and Territory, or in the District of 
Columbia." 

The political confiict was one of the most severe in which our 
country has ever engaged. All the friends of slavery were on 
one side ; all the advocates of its restriction and final abolition, 
on the other. Mr. Fremont, the candidate of the enemies of 
slaver}^ received 114 electoral votes. Mr. Buchanan received 174, 
and was elected. The popular vote stood 1,340,618 for Fremont, 
1,224,750 for Buchanan. On the 4th of March, 1857, Mr. Buchan- 
an was inaugurated President. The crowd which attended wa? 
immense, and the enthusiasm with which he was greeted had 
never been surpassed. Mr. Buchanan was a man of imposing per- 
sonal appearance, an accomplished gentleman, endowed with 
superior abilities improved by the most careful culture, and no 
word had ever been breathed against the purity of his moral char- 
acter. His long experience as a legislator, and the exalted offices 
he had filled at home and abroad, eminently fitted him for the sta- 
tion he was called to fill. Under ordinary circumstances, his 
administration would probably have been a success. 

But such storms arose as the country had never experienced 
before. Mr. Buchanan was far advanced in life. But four years 
were wanting to fill up his threescore years and ten. His own 
friends, those with whom he had been allied in political principles 
and action for years, were seeking the destruction of the Govern- 
ment, that they njight rear upon the ruins of our free institutions 
a nation whose corner-stone should be human slavery. In this 
emergency, Mr. Buchanan was hopelessly bewildered. He could 
not, with his long-avowed principles, consistently oppose the State- 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



359 



rights party in their assumptions. As President of the United 
States, bound by his oath faithfully to administer the laws, he 
could not, without perjury of the grossest kind, unite with those 
endeavoring to overthrow the republic. He therefore did nothing. 








INVASION OV KANSAS. 



In August, 1857, a correspondence took place between a nuin 
ber of gentlemen of distinction in New Haven, Conn., and Presi- 
dent Buchanan, which, in consequence of its having been made 
public by the President, has become historic. As this correspond- 
ence develops very clearly most of the points at issue between 
President Buchanan and the great Republican party which elected 
President Lincoln, we shall quote freely from it. Impartiality will 
be secured by allowing each of the parties to speak in its own 
language. The circumstances which called forth the correspond- 
ence were as follows : — 

After the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, a struggle began, 
between the supporters of slavery and the advocates of freedom, 
for the possession of the Territory of Kansas by population and 
settlement. The more vigorous emigration from the free States, 



360 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

induced by voluntary organizations to favor it, so(n resulted in a 
large excess of population in favor of freedom. To wrest from 
this majority their proper control in the legislation and regula- 
tion of this Territory, large organized and armed mobs repeatedly 
passed over from the contiguous State of Missouri, and appeared 
in force at the polls. We have described these occurrences with 
some particularity in the sketch of President Pierce. 

They drove away the regularly constituted inspectors of elec- 
tion, and substituted their own, who received the votes of the 
mcb without scruple. In some instances, lists of fictitious votes 
were returned under feigned names; and representatives of the 
Missouri mob were thereby furnished by the fraudulent inspectors 
with regular forms of election. Unfortunately, the territorial 
governor of Kansas (Rseder), embarrassed by these regular forms, 
and not knowing how far he would be justified in disputing them, 
did not, in all instances, withhold his certificates from these fraud- 
ulent claimants to seats in the legislature long enough for the 
people to bring evidence of the fraud. The administrations of 
both Presidents Pierce and Buchanan, and the supporters of those 
administrations, strongly proslavery in their sympathies, upheld 
this iniquitously chosen legislature in its authority and acts. 

Gov. Walker, who succeeded Gov. Reeder, in a public address 
to the citizens of Kansas, announced that President Buchanan 
was determined to sustain this legislature, thus mob elected, as 
the lawful legislature of Kansas ; and that its acts would be en- 
forced by executive authority and by the army. This announce- 
ment created intense excitement with the advocates of liberty all 
over the Union. 

About forty of the most distinguished gentlemen of New Ha- 
ven, embracing such names as Benjamin Silliman, A. C. T^vining, 
Nathaniel W. Taylor, Theodore Woolsey, Charles L. English, and 
Leonard Bacon, sent a Memorial to the President upon this sub- 
ject. It has recently appeared, in the published Life of Pro- 
fessor Silliman, that the paper was from the pen of Professor 
A. C. Twining, LL.D. It reads as follows : — 

"to mS EXCELLENCY JAMES BUCHANAN, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED 

STATES. 

" The undersigned, citizens of the United States, and electora 
of the State of Connecticut, respectfully offer to your Excellency 
this Memorial — 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 361 

" The fundamental principle of the Constitution of the United 
States, and of our political institutions, is, that the people shall 
make their own laws, and elect their own rulers. 

" We see with grief, if not with astonishment, that Gov. Walk 
er of Kansas openly represents and proclaims that the President 
of the United States is employing through him an army, one 
purpose of which is to force the people of Kansas to obey laws 
Qot their own, nor of the United States, but laws which it ia 
notorious, and established upon evidence, they never made, and 
rulers they never elected. 

" We represent, therefore, that, by the foregoing, your Excel- 
lency is openly held up and proclaimed, to the great derogation 
of our national character, as violating in its most essential par- 
ticular the solemn oath which the President has taken to sup- 
port the Constitution of this Union. 

" We call attention further to the fact, that your Excellency ia 
in like manner held up to this nation, to all mankind, and to all 
posterity, in the attitude of levying war against a portion of the 
United States, by employing arms in Kansas to uphold a body of 
men, and a code of enactments, purporting to be legislative, but 
which never had the election nor the sanction nor the consent of 
the people of that Territory. 

" We earnestly represent to your Excellency, that we also have 
taken the oath to obey the Constitution ; and your Excellency 
may be assured that we shall not refrain from the prayer that 
Almighty God will make your administration an example of jus- 
tice and beneficence, and, with his terrible majesty, protect our 
people and our Constitution." 

To this, which was called the Silliman Letter, the President 
returned a very carefully-written reply from his own hand, cov. 
ering seventeen folio pages. As he was well aware that the dis- 
tinguished character of the memorialists would stamp the Memorial 
with importance, and attract to it national attention, it cannot be 
doubted that he took counsel in its preparation, and presented 
those arguments upon which he and his cabinet wished to rely 
with posterity in defence of their measures. After some pre- 
liminary remarks, which had but little bearing upon the points 
at issue, he said, — 

" When I entered upon the duties of the presidential office, on 

46 



862 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the 4th of March last, what was the condition of Kansas ? This 
Territory had been organized under the act of Congress of 30tb 
May, 1854; and the government, in all its branches, was in full 
operation. A governor, secretary of the Territory, chief justice, 
two associate justices, a marshal, and district attorney, had been 
appointed by my predecessor, by and with the advice and consent 
of the Senate ; and were all engaged in discharging their respec- 
tive duties. A code of laws had been enacted by the territorial 
legislature ; and the judiciary were employed in expounding 
and carrying these laws into effect. It is quite true that a con- 
troversy had previously arisen respecting the validity of thf. 
election of members of the territorial legislature, and of the laws 
passed by them ; but, at the time I entered upon my official 
duties. Congress had recognized the legislature in different 
forms and by different enactments. 

" The delegate elected by the House of Representatives under 
a territorial law had just completed his term of service on the 
day previous to my inauguration. In fact, I found the govern- 
ment of Kansas as well established as that of any other Terri- 
tory. 

" Under these circumstances, what was my duty ? Was it not 
to sustain this government? to protect it from the violence of 
lawless men who were determined either to rule or ruin? to 
prevent it from being overturned by force? in the language of 
the Constitution, ' to take care that the laws be faithfully exe- 
cuted '? It was for this purpose, and this alone, that I ordered 
a military force to Kansas, to act as a posse comitatus in aiding 
t.-e civil magistrate to carry the laws into execution. 

" The condition of the Territory at the time, which I need not 
portray, rendered this precaution absolutely necessary. In this 
state of affairs, would I not have been justly condemned, had I 
left the marshal, and other officers of like character, impotent 
to execute the process and judgments of courts of justice estal> 
lished by Congress, or by the territorial legislature under its 
express authority, and thus have suffered the government itself 
to become an object of contempt in the eyes of the people ? And 
yet this is what you designate as forcing 'the people of Kansas 
to obey laws not their own, nor of the United States; ' and for 
doing which, you have denounced me as having violated my 
Bolemn oath. 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 363 

" I ask, What else could I have done, or ought I to have donel 
Would you have desired that I should abandon the territorial 
government, sanctioned as it had been by Congress, to illegal 
violence, and thus renew the scenes of civil war and bloodshed 
which every patriot in the country had deplored? This would 
have been, indeed, to violate my oath of office, and to fix a dam 
uing blot on the character of my administration. 

" I most cheerfully admit that the necessity for sending a 
military force to Kansas to aid in the execution of the civil law 
reflects no credit upon the character of our country. But lef 
the blame fall upon the heads of the guilty. Whence did this 
necessity arise? A portion of the people of Kansas, unwilling to 
trust to the ballot-box, — the certain American remedy for the 
redress of all grievances, — undertook to create an independent 
government for themselves. Had this attempt proved successful, 
it would, of course, have subverted the existing government 
prescribed and recognized by Congress, and substituted a revo- 
lutionary government in its stead. 

" This was a usurpation of the same character as it would be 
fur a portion of the people of Connecticut to undertake to estab- 
lish a separate government within its chartered limits, for the 
purpose of redressing any grievance, real or imaginary, of which 
they might have complained against the legitimate State Gov- 
ernment. Such a principle, if carried into execution, would 
destroy all lawful authority, and produce universal anarchy. 

" I ought to specify more particularly a condition of affairs 
which I have embraced only in general terms, requiring the 
presence of a military force in Kansas. The Congress of the 
United States had most wisel}' declared it to be ' the true intent 
and meaning of this act' (the act organizing the Territory) 'not 
to legislate slavery into any Territory or State, nor to exclude it 
therefrom, but to leave the people thereof perfectly free to form 
and regulate their domestic institutions in their own way, subject 
only to the Constitution of the United States.' 

" As a natural consequence, Congress has also prescribed b,v 
the same act, that, when the Territory of Kansas shall be admitted 
as a State, it * vshall be received into the Union, with or without 
slavery, as their Constitution may prescribe at the time of their 
admission.' Slavery existed at that period, and still exists, in 
Kansas, under the Constitution of the United States. This point 



364 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

has at last been finally decided by the highest tribunal known 
to our laws. How it could ever have been seriously doubtef'., is to 
me a mystery. If a confederation of sovereign States acquire a 
new Territory at the expense of the common blood and treasure, 
surely one set of the partners can have no right to exclude the 
other from its enjoyment by prohibiting them from taking into it 
whatsoever is recognized as property by the common Constitu^ 
tion. 

" But when the people * the bond-fide residents of such Territory, 
proceed to frame a State Constitution, then it is their right to de- 
cide the important question for themselves, — whether they will 
continue, modify, or abolish slavery. To them, and to them alone, 
.does this question belong, free from all foreign interference. In 
the opinion of the territorial legislature of Kansas, the time had 
arrived for entering the Union ; and they accordingly passed a 
law to elect delegates for the purpose of framing a State consti- 
tution. This law was fair and just in its provisions. It conferred 
the right of suffrage on ' every bond-fide inhabitant of the Ter- 
ritory ' *• and, for the purpose of preventing fraud and the intru- 
sion ot citizens of near or distant States, most properly confined 
this right to those who had resided there three months previous 
to the election. 

" Here a fair opportunity was presented for all the qualified 
resident citizens of the Territory, to whatever organization they 

* It is to be observed that President Buchanan limits the term people to mean white 
people only. If a man had the slightest tinge of colored blood in his veins, he was not 
to be considered as one of the people. If there Avere two lumdrcd thousand colored per- 
sons in the State, and one hundred thousand white persons, it was " most wisely 
declared " that these white persons should be permitted to decide whether these colored 
persons should work for them, without wages, in lifelong bondage. It was " most wisely 
declared " that James Buchanan, a white man, should be permitted to decide whether 
Frederick Douglas, a colored man,nnA in no respect his inferior, either morally, intellect- 
ually, or physically, should be compelled to black his boots, and groom his horse, from 
the cradle to the grave; and should James Buchanan thus decide, and should Frederick 
Douglas make any objection to the decision, " illegal, unjustifiable, unconstitutional," 
then it was fitting that a United-States army should be sent under the "stars and the 
stripes" to compel Frederick Douglas to ply the shoebrush and the curry-comb for 
James Buchanan. And this was called democracy, " equal rights for all " ! 

t Colored persons, no matter how intelligent, wealthy, or refined, were no more con- 
sidered inhabitants than they were considered people. As Mr. Buchanan employs the.^e 
words with a significance different from that in which they are defined in every English 
dictionary, it is necessary to explain the sense in which he uses them in order to mak4 
his meaning clear. 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 365 

might have previously belonged, to participate in the election, and 
to express their opinions at the ballot-box on the question of 
slavery But numbers of lawless men * still continue to resist 
the regular territorial government. They refused either to be 
registered or to vote, and the members of the convention were 
elected legally and properly without their intervention. 

" The convention will soon assemble to perform the solemn 
duty of framing a constitution for themselves and their posterity ; 
and, in the state of incipient rebellion f which still exists in Kansas, 
it is m}' imperative duty to employ the troops of the United States, 
should this become necessary, in defending the convention against 
violence while framing the constitution ; and in protecting the 
bond-fide inhabitants qualified to vote under the provisions of this 
instrument in the free exercise of the right of suffrage, when it 
shall be submitted to them for their approbation or rejection. 

" Following the wise example of Mr. Madison towards the Hart- 
ford Convention, illegal and dangerous combinations, such as that 
of the Topeka Convention, will not be disturbed, unless they shall 
attempt to perform some act which will bring them into actual 
collision with the Constitution and the laws." 

The above contains the whole of Mr. Buchanan's reply bearing 
upon the points at issue. As this question was so all-absorbing 
during his administration, and created such intense excitement 
throughout the whole country, justice to Mr. Buchanan seemed to 
demand that his views, which were cordially accepted and in- 
dorsed by his party, should be fully unfolded. This reply. Presi- 
dent Buchanan caused to be published, with the Memorial; and it 
was very widely circulated. By the friends of his administration, 
it was declared to be triumphant. The rejoinder on the part of 
the memorialists consisted of an address to the public, also from 
the pen of Professor Twining. It is too long to be quoted ; but 
its substance is contained in the following extracts : — 

♦ These " lawless men " were the free-State men of Kansas, who met in convention, 
and passed the resolve, " That the body of men who for the last two months have been 
passing laws for the people of our Territory, moved, counselled, and dictated to by the 
demagogues of Missouri, are to us a foreign body, representing only the lawless invad- 
ers who elected them, and not the people of the Territory ; that we repudiate their ac- 
tion as the monstrous consummation of an act of violence, usurpation, and fraud, unpar- 
alleled in the history of the Union." 

t These rebels were those who objected to the State being ruled by "border-ruffians " 
from Missouri. 



366 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

•' No man will question that the inhabitants of Kansas, by theii 
Organic Act, became possessed of the same elective privilege 
with the people of a State, just so far, at least, as that act entitles 
them to it. Since, therefore, it cannot be denied that the Consti* 
tution extends its protection over the elective franchise in that 
Territory as full}'- as in any State of the Union, it follows that the 
employment of troops to compel obedience to a notoriously non- 
elected and therefore usurping body, would, if performed in a 
sovereign State, Connecticut for example, be no more fully an un* 
constitutional act, no more really levying war against a portion of 
the United States, than if performed in Kansas- 

" Are we, inhabitants of the comparatively feeble State of Con- 
necticut, to hold our liberties at so precarious a tenure, that if, 
hereafter, thousands of armed men from our stronger neighbor in 
the West shall make an incursion among us, seize our ballot- 
boxes, deposit their votes, and write certificates for representa- 
tives of their own choosing, with the point of the sword, the 
President of this Union shall assume to compel our obedience * by 
the whole power of the G-overnment' ? Could it be expected that 
even such a menace would drive our citizens to recognize any 
valid authority in a mere banditti, because of their possession of 
the stolen and empty forms of law and government ? 

" It has been denied by the apologists of the Missouri invaders, 
that what is called the Territorial Legislature of Kansas is, in 
fact, such a non-elected and usurping body as we have just 
described. How stands this in the President's reply? Does 
that reply deny that the body referred to ' never had the election 
nor sanction nor consent of the people of the Territory '? Not at 
all. In that document, emanating from so high a source, no such 
denial is made. Nay, we are at liberty to receive it as more ; 
even as being, under the circumstances, an impressive recogni- 
tion. And yet, while he does not deny our chief assertion and 
fact, the President justifies the employment of troops to uphold 
a body of men and a code of enactments which he has tacitly 
admitted never had the election nor sanction nor consent of the 
people of the Territory. 

" But the President puts forward a vindication. It rests almost 
entirely upon two grounds, which we feel called upon briefly to 
review. The first ground may be sufl5ciently stated by a single 
quotation from his document : * At the time I entered upon my 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 367 

official duties, Congress had recognized this legislatnre in differ* 
ent forms and by different enactments.' 

" What particuhir forms and enactments are intended, is, with 
a single exception, left to our conjecture ; but by attentively 
considering that exception, which amounts only to the admission 
of a delegate to the House after two marked rejections, you will 
clearly apprehend that there never was any enactment of Con- 
gress from which any thing more could be derived than some 
doubtful or imperfect constructive recognition of the territorial 
body referred to. 

" Our first answer, then, to the ground of vindication above 
stated, is an explicit denial that any joint action of the House and 
the Senate, not to mention the President, expressly purporting to 
recognize or make valid the body in question, can be found 
among the statutes of this nation, — any thing approaching in 
solemnity the Organic Act. Again : we assert that the Organic 
Act stands in all the force of an unrepealed national law. And 
in this we refer especially to its provisions for an elective represen- 
tation of the people. No man will dispute us on this point. That 
great charter of popular representation in Kansas remains unre- 
voked; and it is undeniable, that the fundamental Organic Act 
ought to and must control all side-issues. Mere implications 
cannot be construed to conflict with the unmistakable and ex- 
press enactments according to which the ' duly elected ' legisla- 
tive assembly shall consist of the persons having the highest 
number of legal votes, and with the intent Ho leave the people 
thereof (i.e. of the Territory) free to regulate their domestic insti- 
tutions in their own way, subject (not to invaders, but) only to the 
Constitution of the United States.' 

'' And here we might rest ; for here our answer is complete. 
But we go farther, and deny the propriety even of the implica- 
tions claimed. The President adduces specifically only the 
admission of a delegate sent to the House by the suppoilers of 
the usurping legislature. Now, it is enough to remark in reply, 
that, although the admission of a delegate is final as to his seat 
for a time, it has not even force to oblige a succeeding Congress 
not to exclude him, much less to oblige a President to subju- 
gate a Territory. But is it on such a knife-edge as this that the 
franchise of a whole people is made to oscillate and tremble? 
and is this the logic which guides our statesmen ? 



368 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" To adduce a meagre vote of a single branch cf the Goverii 
ment as an act of Congress ; to adduce it as such in the faco 
of the repeated adverse action of even that single branch ; to 
do this by ignoring the procedures of that same branch, which, 
acting as the grand inquest of the nation, had sent forth the details 
of frauds and the evidence of invalidity, on the strength of which, 
as contained in the report of their investigating committee, they 
had formally voted to abrogate the body for whom their sanction is 
now claimed I 

" The Organic Act, and, under it, the fundamental principle of 
our Constitution, stand in full force in Kansas. But, contrary to 
that act and that principle, a body of men are assuming to legis- 
late, who were never elected or sanctioned by the people. When, 
therefore, the President offers his oath and his obligation to seo 
the laws faithfully executed, as a plea for supporting that illegal 
body, lie proposes the solecism, that his obligation to the laws 
binds him to subvert the organic law, and that his oath to pre- 
serve and protect the Constitution binds him to contravene tlie 
very fundamental element of the Constitution. 

" The President's other ground of vindication is embraced in 
the following extracts : ' I found the government of Kansas as 
well established as that of any other Territory. A governor, 
secretary of the Territory, chief justice, two associate justices, a 
marshal, and district attorney, had been appointed by my prede- 
cessor, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate. A 
code of laws had been enacted by the territorial legislature 
(mark our Italics), and the judiciary were employed in carrying 
those laws into effect.' 

" We assent to the proposition, that if the boiidfide settlers of 
Kansas have, as a body, given their sanction and consent to the 
representative authority of the territorial legislature above 
referred to, even without having given it their election, and if 
that authority is of force to execute its enactments in the Terri- 
tory, it constitutes de facto, in union with the Federal Govern- 
ment and other officers, a valid republican government; but 
then that sanction, it is obvious, must have been the clear, ex- 
plicit, unmistakable act of the majority. How, then, does the 
fact stand in the instance before you ? 

" So far from such sanction or consent of the majority being in 
evidence, or even presumable, the President's reply itself sup* 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 369 

plies distinct proof, in part, to the reverse ; and facts notorioua 
to common information supply the rest. ' A portion of the people 
of Kansas,' you read in the reply, ' undertook to create an inde- 
pendent government for themselves,' ' continued to resist the 
regular territorial government,' and even ' refused either to be 
registered or vote.' 

" A 'portion of the people^ have always acted out a strong pro- 
test. How large a portion, the reply does not state ; but you are 
aware, from good authorities, that it is two-thirds at least, and 
perhaps foior-Ji/ths, of the entire population." 

After showing the conclusive evidence upon which this fact is 
established, evidence which no one now calls in question, the 
memorialists continue, — 

" The emphatic protest of the majority in Kansas, which was 
expressed by their afore-mentioned refusal to vote, is imputed 
to them by the President as a political and public wrong. His 
language is, 'A portion of the people of Kansas, unwilling to trust 
to the ballot-box, — the certain American remedy for the redress 
of all grievances, — undertook to create an independent govern- 
ment. Numbers of lawless men continued to resist the territo- 
rial legislature. They refused either to be registered or to 
vote.' 

" The resistance of these lawless men, be it observed, was 
merely a steady refusal to vote, or to recognize the pretended 
legislature. But were they indeed unwilling to trust the ballot- 
box? When and how? Was it in November, 1854, when, at 
the first election for a delegate, they were overpowered by par- 
ties of armed intruders, who, obtaining violent possesbion of tha 
polls, cast about six-tenths the entire vote of the Territory ? 
Was it in the following March, when thousands of armed men 
from Missouri, with tents, provision-wagons, music, and the entire 
appointments of an invading army, poured into Kansas, occupied 
every council district, took possession of the ballot-boxes, and 
excluded all rightful voters whose sentiments were not agree- 
able 10 them? Has it been at any subsequent election, every 
one of which has been controlled by voters from Missouri? Un- 
der these circumstances, which are all open to the light of day, 
the reproachful charge of being ' unwilling to trust to the ballot- 
box ' cannot reach those at whom it is aimed. 

" Fellow-citizens, we know not why the President should have 

47 



870 U7ES OF THE PRESIDENTa. 

introduced to us and to you the exciting subject of slavery, 
respecting which our Memorial was silent. We leave his start- 
ling assertions on that subject, without any other comment than 
that our silence is not to be construed into any assent." 

The friends of Mr. Buchanan's administration, North and 
South, were satisfied with his letter. They accepted and adopted 
the views it expressed as a triumphant defence of the policy 
which the Government was pursuing. On the other hand, the 
opponents of the administration accepted and adopted the views 
contained in the Memorial of the New-Haven gentlemen, and in 
their response to the President's letter. It was upon this very 
platform that the Hon. Steplien A. Douglass planted his feet so 
firmly, and in defence of which he fought, perhaps, the most he- 
roic battle ever waged in senatorial halls. This was essentially 
the issue which was presented to the nation in the next presiden- 
tial election, and which resulted in the choice of Abraham Lin- 
coln by an overwhelming majority of votes. 

In the great excitement which this state of things created in 
the United States, the opponents of Mr. Buchanan's administra- 
tion nominated Abraham Lincoln as their standard-bearer in the 
next presidential canvass. The proslavery party declared, that if 
he were elected, and the control of the Government were thus 
taken from their hands, they would secede from the Union, taking 
with them, as they retired, the National Capitol at Washington, 
and the lion's share of the territory of t tie United States. 

Mr. Buchanan's sympathy with the proslavery party was such, 
that he had been willing to offer them far more than they had 
ventured to claim. All that the South liad professed to ask 
of the North was non-intervention upon the subject of slavery. 
Mr. Buchanan had been ready to ofi'er them the active co-opera- 
tion of the Government to defend and extend the institution. In 
a " private and confidential letter," addressed to Jefi". Davis in 
1850, he wrote, in reference to a letter which he was urged to 
have published, — 

" From a careful examination of the proceedings in Congress, 
it is clear that non-intervention is all that will be required by the 
South. Under these circumstances, it would be madness in me to 
publish my letter, and take higher ground for the South than they 
have taken for themselves. This would be to out-Herod Herod, 
nod to be mora Southern than the South. I shall be assailed bv 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 371 

fanatics and free-soilers as long as I live for having gone farther 
in support of the rights of the South than Southern senators and 
representatives." 

As the storm increased in violence, the slaveholders claiming 
the right to secede, and Mr. Buchanan avowing that Congress had 
no power to prevent it, one of the most pitiable exhibitions of 
governmental imbecility was exhibited the world has ever seen. 
As soon as it was known that Mr. Lincoln was elected, the slave- 
holding States, drilled to the movement, began to withdraw. 
Mr. Buchanan had not a word of censure for them. All his 
rebukes were addressed to those who had wished to prevent the 
extension of slavery. " The long-continued and intemperate in« 
terference," he said, " of the Northern people with the question 
of slavery in the Southern States, has at length produced its 
natural effects." He declared that Congress had no power to 
enforce its laws in any State which had withdrawn, or which was 
attempting to withdraw, from the Union. This was not the doc- 
trines of Andrew Jackson, when, with his hand upon his sword- 
hilt, he exclaimed, " The Union must and shall be preserved ! " 
It was an alarming state of things when the supreme Executive 
declared that he had no power " to take care that the laws be 
faithfully executed." 

Innumerable plans of concession were proposed ; but the seces- 
sionists did not hesitate to avow their utter contempt for the 
Government of the United States, and to spurn its advances. Mr. 
Buchanan approached the rebels on his knees. They hastened to 
avail themselves of his weakness, and to accomplish all their dis- 
organizing measures before his successor should come into power. 

South Carolina seceded in December, 1860 ; nearly three months 
before the inauguration of President Lincoln. Mr. Buchanan 
looked on in listless despair. The rebel flag was raised in Charles- 
ton ; Fort Sumter was besieged ; " The Star of the West," in en- 
deavoring to carry food to its famishing garrison, was fired upon ; 
and still Mr. Buchanan sat in the White House, wringing his 
hands, and bemoaning his helplessness. Our forts, navy-yards, 
and arsenals were seized ; our depots of military stores were plun- 
dered ; and our custom-houses and post-offices were appropriated 
by the rebels: and all that President Buchanan could do was to 
Bend a secret messenger to Charleston to implore the rebels to 



.172 . LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

hold back their hand a little until the close of his administratiou.'" 
Members of his cabinet began to retire, and join the rebels, aftei 
they had scattered the fleet, and robbed the arsenals and the pub- 
lic treasure. 

The energy of the rebels, and the imbecility of our Executive, 
\\eYQ alike marvellous. Before the close of January, the rebels 
had plundered the nation of millions of property, had occupied 
and fortified many of the most important strategic points, had 
chosen their flag, and organized their government ; while President 
Buchanan had not lifted a hand to check them. The nation looked 
on in agony, waiting for the slow weeks to glide away, and close 
this administration, so terrible in its weakness. 

Gen. Scott, in view of the threatening aspect of affairs, called 
repeatedly upon President Buchanan, and urged that strong gar- 
risons should be sent to all the imperilled forts. Many of these 
forts had no garrisons at all, and coald at any time be seized and 
appropriated by the rebels, rendering their reconquest costly in 
both blood and treasure. Mr. Buchanan would not permit thom 
to be strengthened. Gen. Scott entreated that at least a circular 
might be sent to the forts where there were garrisons, giving 
them warning of their peril, and urging them to be on the alert. 
His request was not granted until it was too late to be of avail. 

Had Gen. Scott's plan been adopted, it would have placed 
all the arsenals and forts commanding the Southern rivers and 
strategic points so firmly in the hands of the National Govern- 
ment, that the rebels would scarcely have ventured to attack 
them. In all probability, it would have prevented the uprising. 
It would have saved the country four thousand millions of money, 
and nearly a million of lives. Whatever may have been the mo- 
tives which influenced Mr. Buchanan, no one can be blind as to 
the result of his conduct. Probably history may be searched in 
vain for a parallel case, in which the chief ruler of a great coun- 
try, the secretary of war, and the secretary of the navy, all seemed 

* " By the middle of December, Hon. Caleb Gushing, of Massachusetts, was de- 
spatched to Charleston by President Buchanan as a commissioner or confidential agent 
of the Executive. His errand was a secret one ; but, so far as its object was allowed Jo 
transpire, he was understood to be the bearer of a proffer from Mr. Buchanan, that he 
would not attempt to re-enforce Major Anderson, nor initiate any hostilities against the 
secessionists, provided they would evince a like pacific spirit by respecting the Federal 
authorities down to the close of his administration, now but a few weeks distant," — • 
The American Conjiict, by Horace Greeley, vol. i. p. 409. 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 373 

to combine to leave the most important fortresses of the nation in 
as defenceless a condition as possible, when arrogant and armed 
rebellion was threatening their capture. Was this treachery? 
Was it imbecility ? 

It is very evident that for some reason the secessionists had 
no fear that President Buchanan would place any obstacles in their 
path. In December, 1860, Hon. L. M. Keitt was serenaded in 
Columbia, S.C. In response, he made a speech, in which he is 
reported to have said as follows : — 

" South Carolina cannot take one step backwards now without 
receiving the curses of posterity. South Carolina, single and 
alone, is bound to go out of this accursed Union. Mr. Buchanan 
is pledged to secession, and I mean to hold him to it. Take your 
destinies in your own hands, and shatter this accursed Union. 
South Carolina can do it alone ; but, if she cannot, she can at 
'east throw her arms around the pillars of the Constitution, and 
involve all the States in a common ruin." 

When South Carolina, under the leadership of John C. Calhoun, 
in the days of Andrew Jackson's presidency, was threatening nul- 
lification and secession. Gen. Scott received an order from the 
War Department to hasten to Washington. He arrived in the 
evening, and immediately had an interview with the President. 
" The Union must and shall be preserved," said Gen. Jackson, as 
he inquired of Gen. Scott his views as to the best military meas- 
ures to be adopted. 

Gen. Scott suggested strong garrisons for Port Moultrie, Castle 
Pinckney, and for the arsenal at Augusta, which was filled with 
the materiel of war. Port Sumter was not then built. He also 
urged that a sloop-of-war and several armed revenue-cutters 
should be immediately sent to Charleston Harbor. 

" Proceed at once," said Gen. Jackson, " and execute those 
views. I give you carte blanche in respect to troops. The vessels 
shall be there, and written instructions shall follow you." 

Under these persuasives, nullification and secession soon came 
to grief. There surely was as great a difierence in the treatment 
of the disease by Jackson and by Buchanan as there was in the 
results of that treatment. 

At length the long-looked-for hour of deliverance came, when 
the sceptre was to fall from the powerless hands of Mr. Buchanan, 
and to be grasped by another, who would wield it with more of 



374 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the dignity and energy becoming the chief ruler of one of tho 
most powerful nations on the globe. It was the 4th of March, 
1861. Attempts had been made by the rebels to assassinate 
Abraham Lincoln on his journey to Washington. Very narrowly 
he escaped. It was deemed necessary to adopt the most care- 
ful precautions to secure him from assassination on the day of 
his inauguration. Mr. Buchanan remained in Washington to see 
his successor installed, and then retired to his home in Wheat- 
land. 

The administration of President Buchanan was certainly the 
most calamitous our country has experienced. His best friends 
cannot recall it with pleasure. And still more deplorable it is 
for his fame, that, in the dreadful conflict which rolled its billows 
of flame and blood over our whole land, no word came from the lips 
of President Buchanan to indicate his wish that our country's ban- 
ner should triumph over the flag of rebellion. He might by a 
few words have rendered the nation the most signal service ; but 
those words were not spoken. He died at his beautiful Wheat- 
land retreat, June 1, 1868, aged seventy-seven years. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

ABRAHAMLINCOLN. 

Ljfa in a Log-cabin. — Excellence of Character early developed. — A Day -laborer. — A 
Boatman. — A Shrpkeeper. — A Student.— A Legislator. — A Lawyer. — A Member o^ 
Congress. — A Political Speaker.— The Debate with Douglas. — Eloquence of Mr. Lin- 
coln. — Nominated for the Presidency. — Habits of Temperance. — His Sentiments.— 
Anecdotes. — Acts of his Administration. — His Assassination. 

In the interior of the State of Kentucky, there is the county of 
Larae. Even now, it is but sparsely populated. Seventy-five 




i:i;sii>i:m !■; or ai;i;ai(a>i lin(.olx. 



years ago it was quite a wilderness, highly picturesque in ha 
streams, its forests, and its prairies ; in places, smooth as a floor, 
and again swelling into gentle undulations like the ocean at the 
subsidence of a storm. The painted Indian here had free range ; 



37J 



r... 



876 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTH. 

a savage more ferocious than the wild beasts he pursued. Though 
Daniel Boone had explored this region, and had returned to the 
other side of the Alleghanies laden with peltry, and with the 
report that it was an earthly paradise, there were but few who 
were ready to plunge into the pathless wilderness, leaving all 
vestiges of civilization hundreds of miles behind them. But 
Providence, for the sake of peopling this country, seems to have 
raised up a peculiar class of men, who loved hardship and peril 
and utter loneliness. The Indians were always clustered in vil- 
lages ; but these men, the pioneers of civilization, penetrated the 
recesses of the forest, and reared their cabins in the most secluded 
valleys, where they seldom heard the voice or saw the face of their 
brother-man. 

About the year 1780, when the war of the Revolution was still 
raging, one of these men, Abraham Lincoln, left the beautiful Val- 
ley of the Shenandoah, in Virginia, for the wilds of Kentucky. 
His wife and one or two children accompanied him. There were 
no roads ; there were no paths but the trail of the Indian. All 
their worldly goods they must have carried in packs upon their 
backs; unless, possibly, they might have been enabled to take with 
them a horse or a mule. What motive could have induced a civil- 
ized man to take such a step, it is difficult to imagine ; and still, 
from the earliest settlement of our country until the present day, 
there have been thousands thus ever crowding into the wilder- 
ness. Only two years after this emigration, Abraham Lincoln, still 
a young man, while working one day in his field, was stealthily 
approached by an Indian, and shot dead. His widow was left in 
the extreme of poverty with five little children. How she strug- 
gled along through the terrible years of toil and destitution, we 
are not informed. It was one of those unwritten tragedies of 
which earth is full. 

There were three boys and two girls in the family. Thomas, 
the youngest of these boys, was four years of age at the time of 
his father's death. This Thomas was the father of Abraham Lio 
coin, the President of the United States, whose name must hence- 
forth forever be enrolled amongst the most prominent in the 
annals of our world. Of course, no record has been kept of the 
life of one so lowly as Thomas Lincoln. He was among the poor- 
98t of the poor. His home was a wretched log-cabin ; his food, the 
coarsest and the meanest. Education he had none • he could never 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 377 

either read or write. As soon as he was able to do any thing fol 
himself, he ws,s compelled to leave the cabin of his starving mother, 
and push out into the world, a friendless, wandering boy, seeking 
work. He hired himself out, and thus spent the whole of his 
youth as a laborer in the fields of others. 

When twenty-eight years of age, he built a log-cabin of his own, 
and married Nancy Hanks, the daughter of another family of poor 
Kentucky emigrants, who had also come from Virginia. Their 
second child was Abraham Lincoln, the subject of this sketch. 
Thomas, his father, was a generous, warm-hearted, good-natured 
man, with but little efficiency. He greatly deplored his want of 
education, and was anxious that his children should not suffer in 
this respect as he had done. The mother of Abraham was a noble 
woman, gentle, loving, pensive, created to adorn a palace, doomed 
to toil and pine and die in a hovel. "All that I am, or hope to 
be," exclaims the grateful son, " I owe to my angel-mother : bless- 
ings on her memory ! " 

Both the father and mother of Abraham Lincoln were earnest 
Christians. Their grateful son could ever say, — 

" 'Tis not my boast that I deduce my birth 
From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; 
But higher far my proud pretensions rise, — 
The child of parents passed into the skies." 

Abraham's mother had received some education, and would 
often delight her children by reading them some story from the 
very few books she could command. In that remote region, 
schools were few, and very humble in their character. Abraham, 
when in his seventh year, was sent to one teacher for about two 
months, and to another for about three. His zeal was so great, 
that, in that time, he learned both to read and write. His parents 
were members of the Baptist Church ; and occasionally an itin- 
erant preacher came along, and gathered the scattered famihes 
under a grove or in a cabin for religious service. Good old Par- 
son Elkin gave Abraham his first ideas of public speaking. 

When he was eight years of age, his father sold his cabin and 
small farm, and moved to Indiana. Three horses took the family 
and all their household goods a seven-days' journey to their new 
home. Here kind neighbors helped them in putting up another 
log-cabin. In a home more cheerless and comfortless than the 

48 



378 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

readers of the present day can easily comprehend, Mrs. Lincoln, 
with the delicate organization, both of body and mind, of a lady, 
sank and died beneath the burdens which crushed her. Abraham 
was then ten years of age. Bitterly he wept as his mother was 
laid in her humble grave beneath the trees near the cabin. The 
high esteem in which this noble woman was held may be inferred 
from the fact that Parson Elkin rode a hundred miles on horse- 
back, through the wilderness, to preach her funeral-sermon ; and 
the neighbors, to the number of two hundred, who were scattered 
in that sparsely-settled region over a distance of twenty miles, 
assembled to attend the service. 

It was a scene for a painter, — the log-cabin, alone in its soli- 
tude; the wide-spread prairie, beautiful in the light of the sabbath- 
morning sun; the grove; the grave; the group seated around upon 
logs and stumps; the venerable preacher; the mourning family: 
and Abraham, with his marked figure and countenance, his eyes 
swimming with tears, gazing upon the scene which was thus hon- 
oring the memory of his revered mother. 

Abraham had written the letter inviting the pastor to preach 
the funeral-sermon. He soon became the scribe of the unedu- 
cated community around him. He could not have had a better 
school than this to teach him to put thoughts into words. He also 
became an eager reader. The books he could obtain were few; 
but these he read and re-read until they were almost committed 
to memory. The Bible, ^sop's " Fables," and the " Pilgrim's Prog- 
ress," were his favorites. The Lives of Washington, Franklin, 
and Clay, produced a deep impression upon his sensitive mind. 
All the events of their varied careers were so stored up in his 
memory, that he could recall them at any time. 

An anecdote is related illustrative of that conscientiousness of 
character which was early developed, and which subsequently 
gave him the name, throughout the whole breadth of the land, of 
" Honest Abe." He had borrowed Ramsay's '* Life of Washing- 
ton." By accident, the book was seriously injured by a shower. 
In consternation at the calamity, he took it back to the owner, and 
purchased the soiled copy by working for it for three days. 

His father soon married again a very worthy woman, who had 
also several children. Abraham remained at home, toiling upon 
the farm, and occasionally working as a day-laborer. He had re- 
markable muscular strength and agility, was exceiedingly genial 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 379 

and obliging, and secured to an eminent degree the affection and 
respect of the lowly community with which he was associated. 
He was ever ready to make any sacrifice of his own comfort to 
assist others. Having some considerable mechanical skill, he built 
a boat to carry the produce of the farm down the Ohio River to a 
market. One morning, as he was standing by his boat at the 
landing, two men came down to the shore, and wished to be taken 
out to a steamer in the river. He sculled them out with their lug- 
gage. Each of them tossed a silver half-dollar to him. In telling 
this story in the day when his income was twenty-five thousand 
dollars a year, and he had obtained almost world-wide renown, he 
said, — 

" I could scarcely believe my eyes. It was a most important 
incident in my life. I could scarcely believe that I, a poor boy, 
had earned a dollar in less than a day. The world seemed wider 
and fairer before me. I was more hopeful and confident from that 
time." 

When nineteen years of age, a neighbor applied to him to take 
charge of a flat-boat to float a cargo of produce down the Ohio 
and the Mississippi to New Orleans, — a distance of more than a 
thousand miles. A more exciting trip for an adventurous young 
man can scarcely be imagined. Housed safely in his capacious 
boat, Avith food and shelter ; floating down the tranquil current of 
the beautiful Ohio, and swept resistlessly along by the majestic 
flood of the Father of Waters ; passing headlands and forests, huts 
and villages, the tortuous river bearing the boat in all directions, — 
north, south, east, west ; the stream now compressed within narrow 
banks, and now expanding to a lake, and almost to an ocean ; to 
be borne along by an insensible motion through such scenes, in 
the bright morning sunshine or in the serene moonlight, must 
have enkindled emotions in the bosom of young Lincoln never to 
be forgotten. With a rifle, and a small boat attached to their float- 
ing ark, they could supply themselves with game. Whenever they 
wished, they could tie their boat to the shore, and visit the cabins 
of the remote settlers for supplies. 

One night, when tied to the shore, they were attacked by seven 
robbers eager for plunder. Quite a little battle ensued, when the 
robbers were put to precipitate flight. Having arrived at New 
Orleans, the cargo was sold, and the boat disposed of for lumber. 
Young Lincoln, with his companions, retraced their passage 



380 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

back to Indiana in a long and weary journey, most of the way on 
foot. 

As the years rolled on, the lot of this lowly family was the usual 
lot of humanity. There were joys and griefs, weddings and fune- 
rals. Abraham's sister Sarah, to whom he was tenderly attached 
was married when a child of but fourteen years of age, and soon 
died. The family was gradually scattered. Mr. Thomas Lincoln, 
naturally restless, finding his location unhealthy in the almost 
urbroken wilderness of Spencer County, la., and lured by the 
accounts which he had heard of the marvellous fertility of Illinois, 
sold out his squatter's claim in 1830, and emigrated two hundred 
miles farther north-west, — to Macon County, 111. It was a weary 
spring journey over swollen streams and through roads of mire. 
The teams, containing the personal effects of the emigrants, were 
dragged by oxen; and fifteen days were occupied in reaching their 
new home upon the banks of the Sangamon. 

Abraham Lincoln was then twenty-one years of age. With 
vigorous hands, he aided his father in rearing another log-cabin. 
It was made of hewn timber. The only tools they had to work 
with were an axe, a saw, and a drawer-knife. A smoke-house and 
barn were also built, and ten acres of land were fenced in by split 
rails. Abraham worked diligently at this until he saw the family 
comfortably settled, and their small lot of enclosed prairie planted 
with corn ; when he announced to his father his intention to leave 
home, and to go out into the world to seek his fortune. Little did 
he or his friends imagine how brilliant that fortune was to be. 
But the elements of greatness were then being developed. He 
saw the value of education, and was intensely earnest to improve 
his mind to the utmost of his power. He saw the ruin which 
ardent spirits were causing, and became strictly temperate ; re- 
fusing to allow a drop of intoxicating liquor to pass his lips. And 
he had read in God's word, " Thou shalt not take the name of the 
Lord thy God in vain ; " and a profane expression he was never 
heard to utter. Religion he revered. His morals were pure, and 
he was uncontaminated by a single vice. 

It is difficult to explain the reason for the fact, that one young 
man, surrounded by every influence which should elevate, sinks 
into ruin ; and that another, exposed to all the temptations which 
would naturally tend to degrade, soars to dignity and elevation 
which render him an honor to his race. Youno- Abraham worked 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 381 

tor a time as a hired laborer among the farmers. Then he went to 
Springfield, where he was employed in building a large flat-boat. 
In this he took a herd of swine, floated them down the Sangamon 
to the Illinois, and thence by the Mississippi to New Orleans. 
Whatever Abraham Lincoln undertook, he performed so faithfully 
as to give great satisfaction to his employers. In this adventure 
his employers were so well pleased, that, upon his return, they 
placed a store and a mill under his care. A blessing seemed 
to follow him. Customers were multiplied. His straightforward, 
determined honesty secured confidence. In settling a bill with a 
woman, ho took six and quarter cents too much. He found it out 
in his night's reckoning, and immediately, in the dark, walked to 
her house, two miles and a half distant, to pay it back to her. 
Just as he was closing the store one night, in the dusk, he weighed 
out half a pound of tea for a woman. In the morning, he found, 
that, by an accidental defect in the scales, the woman had received 
scant Aveight by four ounces. He weighed out the four ounces, 
shut up the store, and carried them to her ; a long walk before 
breakfast. 

A bully came into the store one day, rioting, blustering, insult- 
ing beyond endurance, trying to provoke a fight. " Well, if you 
must be whipped," said Abraham at last, " I suppose I may as 
well whip you as an}^ other man." He seized him with his long, 
powerful arms, threw him upon the ground as though he had been 
a child, and, gathering in his hand some "smart weed" which 
chanced to be near, rubbed it in his face, until the fellow bel- 
lowed with pain, and cried for mercy. Abraham, with " malice to- 
wards none," helped him up, got some cool water to bathe his 
burning face, and made him ever after one of his best friends. 

He borrowed an English grammar, studied it thoroughly, and 
completely mastered it. He sought the society of the most intel- 
ligent men in that region, joined a debating-club, and took "The 
Louisville Journal," which he not only read, but carefully pon- 
dered all its leading articles. Every leisure moment was devoted 
to study and thought. 

In 1832, the celebrated Indian chief Black Hawk crossed the 
Mississippi, and, with a large band of savages, was ascending Rock 
River. Volunteers were called for to resist him. Lincoln, with 
enough others in his immediate neighborhood to make a company, 
enlisted. Who should be their captain ? There were two candi. 



382 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

datAs, — Mr. Lincoln and a Mr. Kirkpatrick, a man of extensive 
influence, and who bad been a former employer of Mr. Lincoln, 
but who was so arrogant and overbearing, that Mr. Lincoln could 
not live with him. The mode of election was very simple. The 
two candidates were placed apart, and each man was told to go to 
the one whom he preferred. Nearly the whole band was soon 
found clustered around Lincoln. This was with Mr. Lincoln the 
proudest hour of his life. The little army of twenty-four hun- 
dred ascended Rock River in pursuit of Black Hawk. The sav. 
ages were attacked, routed, and Black Hawk was taken prisoner. 
Zachary Taylor was colonel, and Abraham Lincoln captain, in this 
campaign. Nothing seemed then more improbable than that 
either of those men should ever become President of the United 
States, 

Upon his return to Sangamon County, he was proposed as a 
candidate for the State Legislature. He was then twenty-three 
years of age, and was the political admirer of Henry Clay, and not 
of Gen. Jackson. The great majority of the county were Jack- 
sonian Democrats : but Mr. Lincoln's personal popularity was 
such, that he received almost every vote in his own precinct ; 
though, in the general vote, he was defeated. He again tried his 
hand at store-keeping, and, with a partner, purchased a lot of 
goods. But his partner proved fickle and dissipated, and the 
adventure was a failure. He now received from Andrew Jackson 
the appointment of postmaster for New Salem. The duties were 
light, and the recompense small, in that wilderness. His only post- 
oflSce was his hat. All the letters he received he carried there, 
ready to deliver as he chanced to meet those to whom they were 
addressed. 

That new country was constantly demanding the services of a 
surveyor. Mr. Lincoln studied the science, and, entering upon 
the practice of this new profession, followed it vigorously and 
successfully for more than a year. He was still rapidly acquiring 
information, and advancing in mental culture. Shakspeare be 
read and re-read. Burns he could almost repeat by heart. Oc- 
casionally he ventured to make a political speech. 

In 1834, he again became a candidate for the State Legislature, 
and was triumphantly elected. Mr. Stuart of Springfield, an emi- 
nent lawyer, advised him to study law ; offering to lend him such 
assistance in money as he needed. He walked from New Salem 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 383 

to Springfield, borrowed of Mr. Stuart a load of books, carried 
them upon his back to New Salem, and commenced his legal 
studies. With earnestness which absorbed every energy of his 
soul, he entered upon his student-life. He had no pleasant office, 
no choice library, none of the appliances of literary luxury, to 
entice him. Much of his time, his study was the shade of an oak- 
tree. When the legislature assembled, he trudged on foot, with 
Lis pack on his back, one hundred miles to Vandalia, then the 
capital of the State. He was a silent but studious member, 
gaining strength and wisdom every day. At the close of the ses- 
sion, he walked home, and resumed the study of the law, support- 
ing himself by surveying. These years of thought and study 
had accomplished their work, and suddenly he flashed forth an 
orator. It was at a public meeting in Springfield that he elec- 
trified the audience, and was at once recognized as one of the 
most eloquent men in the State. 

In 1836, he was re-elected to the State Legislature. Mr. Lin- 
coln was now twenty-seven years of age, and a prominent man in 
the State of Illinois. It was during this session of the legisla- 
ture that Mr. Lincoln first met Stephen A. Douglas, who was then 
but twenty-three years old. The slavery question was beginning 
to agitate the country. Both parties were bowing submissive to 
that great power. Some extreme proslavery resolutions passed 
the legislature. There were but two men who ventured to re- 
monstrate. Abraham Lincoln was one. " Slavery," Mr. Lincoln 
said in his protest, which was entered upon the journal of the 
house, '' is founded on both injustice and bad policy." He was 
still poor. He walked to Vandalia. He walked home ; his only 
baggage, a bundle in his hand. 

Major Stuai't, of Springfield, now proposed that Mr. Lincoln 
should become his partner in the law ; and accordingly, in April, 
1839, he removed to Springfield, and commenced the practice of 
his new profession. In the mean time, the capital was removed to 
Springfield ; and Mr. Lincoln, by successive elections, was contin- 
ued in the legislature, and was soon recognized as its leading 
member on the Whig side. In the practice of the law, his suc- 
cess with the jury was so great, that he was engaged in almost 
every important case in the circuit. 

Mr. Lincoln at once took a very high position at the bar. He 
would never advocate a cause which he did not believe to be a 



384 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

just one, and no amount of odium or unpopularity could dissuade 
him from espousing a cause where he thought the right was with 
his client. Few lawyers were at that time willing to undertake 
the defence of any one who had helped a fugitive slave on his way 
to Canada. A man who was accused of that crime applied to one 
of the first lawyers in Springfield as his advocate. The lawyer 
declined, saying that he should imperil all his political prospects 
by undertaking the case. He then applied to an earnest anti- 
slavery man for advice. " Go," said he, " to Mr. Lincoln. He is 
not afraid of an unpopular cause. When I go for a lawyer to de- 
feml an arrested fugitive slave, other lawyers will refuse me ; but, 
if Mr. Lincoln is at home, he will always take my case." 

Judge Caton said of him, " His mode of speaking was generally 
of a plain and unimpassioned character ; and yet he was the au- 
thor of some of the most beautiful and eloquent passages in our 
language, which, if collected, would form a valuable contribution 
to American literature." 

Judge Breeze, speaking of him after his death, said, " For my 
single self, I have, for a quarter of a century, regarded Mr. Lin- 
coln as the finest lawyer I ever knew, and of a professional bear- 
ing so high-toned and honorable, as justly, and without derogating 
from the claims of others, entitling him to be presented to the 
profession as a model well worthy the closest imitation." 

Judge Drummond's testimony is equally full and emphatic. He 
says, " With a voice by no means pleasant, and indeed, when ex- 
cited, in its shrill tones sometimes almost disagreeable ; without 
any of the personal graces of the orator ; without much in the out- 
ward man indicating superiority of intellect ; without quickness 
of perception, — still his mind was so vigorous, his comprehen- 
sion so exact and clear, and his judgment so sure, that he easily 
mastered the intricacies of his profession, and became one of the 
ablest reasoners and most impressive speakers at our bar. With 
a probity of character known to all, with an intuitive insight into 
the human heart, with a clearness of statement which was itself 
an argument, with uncommon power and felicity of illustration, — 
otten, it is true, of a plain and homely kind, — and with that sin- 
cerity and earnestness of manner which carried conviction, he 
was, perhaps, one of the most successful jury-lawyers we have 
ever had in the State. He always tried a case fairly and honestly. 
He never intentionally misrepresented the evidence of a witness 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. o85 

or the argument of an opponent. He met both squarely, and if 
he could not explain the one, or answer the other, substantially 
admitted it. He never misstated the law according to his own in- 
telligent view of it." 

At one time, Mr, Lincoln came very near being ilrawn into a 
duel very foolishly, but at the saule time with a certain kind of 
characteristic magnanimity. A lady wrote a satirical poem in al- 
lusion to a young lawyer in Springfield, which some mischievous 
person took from her desk, and published in " The Journal." The 
lawyer, exasperated, called upon the editor, and demanded the 
name of the author. The editor was perplexed. It would seem ig- 
noble to escape the responsibility by throwing it upon a lady. He 
consulted Mr. Lincoln, who was a personal friend of the lady. " In- 
form him," was the prompt reply, " that I assume the responsibil- 
ity." A challenge was given and accepted. Mr. Lincoln chose 
broad-swords, intending to act simply on the defensive. Friends 
interposed ; and the silly rencounter, which, had it resulted in the 
death of Mr. Lincoln, would have proved a great national calam- 
ity, was prevented. 

In allusion to this event, Mr. Carpenter says, " Mr. Lincoln him. 
self regarded the circumstance with much regret and murtifica- 
tion, and hoped it might be forgotten. In February preceding 
his death, a distinguished officer of the army called at the White 
House, and was entertained by the President and Mrs. Lincoln 
for an hour in the parlor. During the conversation, the gentle- 
man said, turning to Mrs. Lincoln, 'Is it true, Mr. President, as I 
have heard, that you once went out to fight a duel for the sake 
of the lady by your side ? ' — 'I do not deny it,' replied Mr. Lin- 
coln ; ' but, if you desire my friendship, you will never mention the 
circumstance again.' " 

In 1842, Mr. Lincoln married Miss Mary Todd, daughter of 
Hon. Robert S. Todd, of Lexington, Ky., who had resided sev- 
eral years in Springfield. During the great political contest of 
1844, Mr. Lincoln earnestly espoused the cause of his political 
idol, Henry Clay. In the canvass, he acquired much celebrity 
as an efficient speaker. His chagrin was intense that an intel- 
ligent people could prefer Mr. Polk to Mr. Clay. For a time, he 
mistrusted the capacity of the people for selfgovernment, and 
resolved to have no more to do with politics. 

In 1846, Mr. Lincoln was nominated from the Sangamon District 

4d 



386 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

for Congress. He was elected by a very great majority, and in 
December, 1847, took his seat in the thirtieth Congress. During 
the same session, Stephen A. Douglas took his seat in the Senate. 
Mr. Douglas was one of the champions of the Democratic party 
in the Senate. Mr. Lincoln was the warm advocate of Whig prin- 
ciples in the House. He was opposed to the Mexican War, as 
" unnecessarily and unconstitutionally begun by the President of 
the United States." A speech which he made on this subject 
was one of a very high order of ability. His clearness, direct- 
ness, vigor of style, and oratorical impressiveness, are all remark- 
able. Speaking of President Polk's apologies for the war, ho 
says, — 

"I more than suspect that he is deeply conscious of being in the 
wrong ; that he feels that the blood of this war, like the blood of 
Abel, is crying to Heaven against him ; that he ordered Gen. Tay- 
lor into the midst of a peaceful Mexican settlement, purposely to 
bring on a war ; that originally having some strong motive, which 
I will not stop now to give my opinion concerning, to involve the 
two nations in a war, and trusting to escape scrutiny by the ex- 
treme brightness of military glory, — that attractive rainbow 
that riacs in showers of blood, that serpent's eye that charms to 
destroy, — he plunged into it, and swept on and on, till, disap- 
pointed in his calculations of the ease with which Mexico might 
be subdued, he now finds himself he knows not where." 

War and victories were then something new to the American 
people. Gen. Taylor was nominated in 1848 as the Whig candi- 
date for the presidency. Gen. Cass was the Democratic candidate. 
Gen. Taylor had said, in accepting the nomination, — 

" Upon the subject of the tariif, the currency, the impro^'^ement 
of our great highways, rivers, lakes, and harbors, the will of the 
people, as expressed through their representatives in Congr?ss, 
ought to be respected and carried out by the Executive." 

Mr. Lincoln, pithily and approvingly commenting upon this, 
said, " The people say to Gen. Taylor, ' If you are elected, shall 
we have a national bank ? ' He answers, ' Your will, gentlemen, 
not mine.' — 'What about the tariff?' — ' Say yourselves.' — •' Shall 
our rivers and harbors be improved? ' — 'Just as you please. If 
you desire a bank, an alteration in the tariff, internal improvements, 
any or all, I will not hinder you ; if you do not desire them, I will 
not attempt to force them on you. Send up your members to Con- 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN: 387 

gress from the various districts, with opinions according to your 
own ; and if they are for these measures, or any of them, I shall 
have nothing to oppose ; if they are not for them, I shall not, by 
any appliances whatever, attempt to dragoon them into their ac- 
complishment.' 

" In a certain sense," Mr. Lincoln continued, " and to a certain 
extent, the President is a representative of the people. He is 
elected by them as Congress is. But can he, in the nature of 
things, know the wants of the people as well as three hundred 
other men coming from all the various localities of the nation? 
If so, where is the propriety of having Congress?" 

This was the platform upon which Mr. Lincoln ever stood. It 
was understood that Gen. Taylor was opposed to the Mexican 
War. He certainly advocated an offensive instead of a defensive 
attitude. Mr. Lincoln cordially supported him in preference to 
Gen. Cass, the Democratic candidate. He advocated the Wilmot 
Proviso, which excluded slavery from the Territories. He pre- 
pared a bill which declared that no person hereafter born in the 
District of Columbia should be held a slave, and which also en- 
couraged emancipation. At the same time, there is evidence, that, 
while his sympathies were strongly against slavery, he still then 
thought that slaves were recognized as property under the Con- 
stitution. Still he afterwards denied, in a controversy with Doug- 
las, that the " right of property in a slave is distinctly and ex- 
pressly affirmed in the Constitution." At the close of his two 
years' term of service in Washington, he returned to Springfield, 
and assiduously devoted himself to the duties of his profession. 
He Avas always ready to advocate the cause of the poor and the 
oppressed, however small the remuneration, or great the obloquy 
incurred. The fugitive slave never appealed to him in vain. 

In 1854, the proslavery party secured the abrogation of the 
Missouri Compromise, and thus threw open the whole of the 
North-west to the invasion of slavery. This outrage roused the in- 
dignation of Mr. Lincoln. He had long and anxiously watched 
the encroachments of slavery ; and he now became convinced that 
there could be no cessation of the conflict until either slavery or 
►freedom should gain the entire victory. Stephen A. Douglas, 
■with whom Mr. Lincoln had long been more or less intimately as- 
sociated, was responsible for the bill repealing the Missouri Com- 
promise. It was regarded as his bid for Southern votes to secure 
the presidency. 



338 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Mr. Douglas was a man of great intellectual power, and of con 
summate tact and skill in debate. In October, 1854, he attended 
a State fair in Springfield, 111., and addressed a vast assemblage 
in defence of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill as it was called. The 
next day, Mr. Lincoln replied to him, in a speech three hours in 
length. "The Springfield Republican," in its report, says, — 

" He quivered with emotion. The whole house was still as 
death. He attacked the bill with unusual warmth and energy ; 
and all felt that a man of strength Avas its enemy, and that he 
intended to blast it, if he could, by strong and manly efforts. He 
was most successful ; and the house approved the glorious triumph 
of truth by long and loud continued huzzas. Women waved their 
handkerchiefs in token of woman's silent but heartfelt consent." 

The fundamental principle of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill was, 
that the white people in the Territories had a right to decide 
whether or not they would enslave the colored people. Thus pithi- 
ly Mr. Lincoln replied to it : — 

" My distinguished friend says it is an insult to the emigrants 
to Kansas and Nebraska to suppose that they are not able to 
govern themselves. We must not slur over an argument of this 
kind because it happens to tickle the ear. It must be met and 
answered. I admit that the emigrant to Kansas and Nebraska is 
competent to govern himself; but I deny his right to govern any 
other person without that person^ s consent." 

It was the almost universal testimony, that, in this meeting at 
Springfield, Mr. Douglas was vanquished. Mr. Douglas went to 
Peoria. Mr. Lincoln followed him. The public excitement drew 
an immense crowd. Again these able and illustrious men met in 
the sternest conflict of argument. Mr. Lincoln's speech upon 
this occasion was fully reported. It was read with admiration all 
over the Union, and was generally considered an unanswerable 
refutation of the positions assumed by Mr. Douglas. One portion 
we will quote, since it has a direct bearing upon one of the ques- 
tions now deeply exciting the public mind. 

]\Ir. Douglas had assumed that it was a question of no impor- 
tance whatever to the people of Illinois whether men were en- 
slaved or not in the Territories. " I care not," he said, " whether 
slavery is voted up, or voted down, in Kansas." 

Mr. Lincoln replied, " By the Constitution, each State has two 
Benators ; each has a number of representatives in proportion to 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 389 

tlie nnmber of its people ; and each has a number o^ presidential 
electors equal to the whole number of its senators and represen- 
tatives together. 

" But, in ascertaining the number of the people for the purpose, 
five slaves are counted as being equal to three vsrhites. The 
slaves do not vote. They are only counted, and so used as to 
swell the influence of the white people's vote. The practical ef- 
fect of this is more aptly shown by a comparison of the States 
of South Carolina and Maine. South Carolina has six representa- 
tives, aad so has Maine. South Carolina has eight presidential 
electors, and so has Maine. This is precise equality so far ; and 
of course they are equal in senators, each having two. 

"But how are they in the number of their white people? 
Maine has 581,613. South Carolina has 274,567. Maine has twice 
as many as South Carolina, and 32,679 over. Thus each white 
man in South Carolina is more than double any man in Maine. 
This is all because South Carolina, besides her free people, has 
387,984 slaves." 

It is now proposed that all these colored people, to whom South 
Carolina refuses the rights of freemen, should be counted in the 
representation, thus not only continuing but augmenting this in- 
equality. If they are admitted to the rights of citizenship, then 
their votes will be thrown for such measures as they approve ; 
but if they are denied the rights of citizens, and are yet counted 
in the representation, it more than doubles the political power of 
their former masters, and leaves the freedmen utterly helpless in 
their hands. In a letter which Mr, Lincoln wrote, Aug. 24, 1855, 
ho says, — 

"You inquire where I now stand. That is a disputed point. 
I think I am a Whig ; but others say that there are no Whigs, 
and that I am an abolitionist. When I was in Washington, I 
voted for the Wilmot Proviso as good as forty times, and I never 
heard of any attempt to unwhig me for that. I do no more than 
oppose the extension of slavery. Our progress in degeneracy ap- 
pears to me to be pretty rapid. As a nation, we began by declar- 
ing that ' all men are created equal.' We now practically read it, 
' All men are created equal, except negroes.' I am not a Know- 
Nothing; that's certain. How could I be? How can any one, who 
abhors the oppression of the negroes, be in favor of degrading 
classes of white people ? When the Know-Nothings get control, it 



S90 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

will read, 'All men are created equal, except negroes and for- 
eiguers and Catholics.' When it comes to that, I should p: efer 
emigrating to some country where they make no pretence of lov- 
ing liberty, — to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be 
taken pure, without the base alloy of hypocrisy." 

The new Republican party, embracing all of every name who 
were opposed to slavery extension, was now rising rapidly into 
power, and Mr. Lincoln cordially connected himself with it. He 
assisted in organizing the party in Illinois, and on the occasion 
made a speech, of which it was said, " Never was an audience 
morf» completely electrified by human eloquence. Again and 
again, during the progress of its delivery, they sprang to their 
feet and upon the benches, and testified, by long-continued 
shouts and the waving of their hats, how deeply the speaker had 
wrought upon their minds and hearts." 

Abraham Lincoln was now the most prominent man in the Re- 
publican party in all the West. His name was presented to the 
National Convention for the vice-presidency, to be placed upon 
the ticket with John C. Fremont ; but Mr. Dayton was the suc- 
cessful competitor. During this campaign, he was rudely inter- 
rupted, in a glowing speech he was making, by some one crying 
out from the crowd, — 

" Mr. Lincoln, is it true that you entered this State barefoot, 
driving a yoke of oxen ? " 

Mr. Lincoln paused for nearly a minute, while there was breath- 
less silence, and then said very deliberately, " I think that I can 
prove the fact by at least a dozen men in this crowd, any one of 
whom is more respectable than the questioner." Then, resuming 
his impassioned strain as if he had not been interrupted, he said, 
" Yes, we will speak for freedom and against slavery as long aa 
the Constitution of our country guarantees free speech; until 
everywhere on this wide land the sun shall shine, and the rain 
shall fall, and the wind shall blow, upon no man who goes forth to 
unrequited toil." 

The Missouri mob had now formed the Lecompton Constitution, 
imposing slavery upon Kansas; and the President had given it his 
sanction. The country was agitated as never before. Mr. Doug- 
las had thrown open the Northwest to the slave-power. It was 
capable of demonstration, that the Lecompton Constitution was 
not the act of the people of Kansas. Any thoughtful man could 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN: 391 

have been assured that it would not secure tne support of the 
people of the United States. The Silliman Memorial, to which 
we have referred, was exerting a wide influence ; and conscien- 
tious men of all parties Avere denouncing the fraud. Under these 
circumstances, Mr. Douglas abandoned the base forgery, and took 
his stand upon the platform of the Silliman Memorial. The Demo- 
cratic State Convention of Illinois indorsed his position. Still, 
Mr. Douglas had not changed his fundamental position. He still 
advocated the opening of the Territory, which had been conse- 
crated to freedom, to the entrance of slavery; and he still would 
allow the white inhabitants of the Territory, in their constitution, to 
decide whether or not they would perpetuate the enslavement of 
tlie colored inhabitants. But he would not support the doings 
of an armed mob from Missouri, which had invaded Kansas, chosen 
a legislature, and framed a constitution. Upon this point, he broke 
away from Mr. Buchanan and his administration. 

The Republicans of Illinois were not willing to send back to 
the Senate one who was the author of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill ; 
but Mr. Douglas was the recognized leader of the Democratic 
party in Illinois, and they rallied around him. The Republican 
State Convention met at Springfield on the 16th of June, 1858. 
Nearly one thousand delegates were present. Mr. Lincoln was 
unanimously nominated for the Senate in opposition to ]Mr. Doug- 
las. In the evening, he addressed the convention at the State 
House. The following extracts will give some faint idea of this 
remarkable speech : — 

"'A house divided against itself cannot stand.' I believe that 
this Government cannot endure permanently half-slave and half- 
free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved ; I do not expect 
the house to I'all : but I do expect that it will cease to be divided. 
It will become all one thing, or all another. Either the opponents 
of slavery will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where 
the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of 
ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward till it 
shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new, 
North as well as South. 

"In the notable argument of squatter sovereignty, otherwise 
called * sacred right of self-government,' this latter phrase, though 
expressive of the only rightful basis of any government, is sc 
perverted in this attempted use of it, as to amount to just this, — 



392 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

that, if any one man choose to enslave another, no third man 
shall be allowed to object." 

The campaign was now fairly opened. After one or two 
speeches, in which Mr. Dougkis and Mr. Lincoln addressed the 
same audiences, but at different meetings, Mr. Lincoln, on the 
24th of July, 1858, sent a proposition to Mr. Douglas that they 
should make arrangements to speak at the same meetings, divid- 
ing the time between them. The proposition was agreed to for 
seven towns. At the first, Mr. Douglas was to speak for an hour, 
and Mr. Lincoln for an hour and a half; then Mr. Douglas was to 
have the closing speech of half an hour. At the next, the time 
occupied was to be reversed. Thus they were to alternate until 
the close. 

The first meeting was at Ottowa. Twelve thousand citizens 
had assembled. Mr. Douglas had the opening speech. The 
friends of Mr. Lincoln were roused to the greatest enthusiasm by 
his triumphant reply upon this occasion, and they almost literally 
bore him from the stage upon their shoulders. Immense crowds 
attended every meeting. Both speeches were carefully reported. 
The whole nation looked on with interest. The Republican party 
were so well pleased with Mr. Lincoln's success, that they pub- 
lished in one pamphlet the speeches on both sides, and circu- 
lated them widely as a campaign document. The verdict of the 
nation has been, that Mr. Lincoln was morally and intellectually 
the victor. 

By an unfair apportionment of the legislative districts, Mr. Lin- 
coln was beaten in his contest for a seat in the Senate ; but, ver} 
unexpectedly to himself, he won a far higher prize. Mr. Lincolr: 
made about sixty speeches during the canvass. When asked how 
he felt after his defeat, he repHed characteristically, " I felt like 
the boy who had stubbed his toe, — too badly to laugh, and too big 
to cry." 

Mr. Lincoln was now a man of national fame. He was recog- 
nized as one of the ablest statesmen and one of the most eloqueni 
men in the nation. He was a good writer, an able debater, a Rian 
of well-disciplined mind, and extensive attainments in political 
science. Li years long since past, he had helped to split rails ♦'C 
fence in a farm. Unwisely, the Republican party introduced 
this statesman and orator, and man of noble character, to the 
country as the " rail-splitter." 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 393 

"It took years," says Mr. Holland, in his admirable "Life of A.bra- 
ham Lincoln," " for the country to learn that Mr. Lincoln was not a 
boor. It took them years to unlearn what an unwise and loyish 
introduction of a great man to the public had taught them. It 
took years for them to comprehend the fact, that, in Mr. Lincoln, 
the country had the wisest, truest, gentlest, noblest, most saga- 
cious President who had occupied the chair of state since Wash- 
ington retired from it." 

He visited Kansas, where he was received with boundless en- 
thusiasm. He visited Ohio, and crowds thronged to hear him. 
His renown was now such, that he was invited to address the citi- 
zens of New York at the Cooper Institute. The hall was crowded 
to its utmost capacity by the most distinguished men of that city 
of great names. Mr. Lincoln's address was a signal success. All 
were delighted. Kound after round of applause greeted his tell- 
ing periods. Mr. Bryant, in giving a report in " The Evening 
Post," said, "For the publication of such words of weight and 
wisdom as those of Mr. Lincoln, the pages of this journal are in- 
definitely elastic." The speech was published as a campaign 
document, and widely circulated. It might be called a scholarly 
performance. Its logic was faultless. In diction, it presented 
one of the finest specimens of pure Saxon English. Its illustra- 
tions and historic references indicated wide reading. 

In New York, everybody was charmed with the artlessness 
frankness, intelligence, and lovely character of the man. Invita^ 
tions to speak were crowded upon liim. He addressed immense 
audiences at Hartford, New Haven, Meriden, and Norwich. It 
was unquestionably greatly through his influence that the State 
of Connecticut that year gave a Republican majority. The ability 
which he displayed was very remarkable. A distinguished cler- 
gyman said, " 1 learned more of the art of public speaking, in 
listening to Mr. Lincoln's address last evening, than I could have 
learned from a whole course of lectures on rhetoric." A profess 
or of rhetoric in Yale College took notes of his speech, and made 
them the subject of a lecture to liis class the next day. He also 
followed Mr. Lincoln to his next appointment, that he might hear 
him again. " What was it? " inquired Mr. Lincoln of the Rev. Mr. 
Gulliver, who was complimenting him upon his speech, " which 
interested you so much ? " The reply was, " It was the clearness 

60 



39 i LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of your reasoning, and especially your illustrations, which were 
romance and pathos, and fun and logic, all welded together." 

Alluding to the threats of the proslavery men that they would 
break up the Union should slavery be excluded from the Territo- 
ries, he said, — 

"In that supposed event, you say you will destroy the Union; 
and then you say the great crime of having destroyed it will be 
upon us. That is cool. A highwayman holds a pistol to my ear, 
and mutters through his teeth, ' Stand and deliver, or I shall kill 
you, and then you will be a murderer ! ' To be sure, what the 
robber demands of me — mj money — was my own, and I had a 
clear right to keep it ; but it was no more my own than my vote 
is my own. And threat of death to me to extort my money, and 
threat of destruction to the Union to extort my vote, can scarcely 
be distinguished in principle." 

In conversation with Rev. Mr. Gulliver at this time, Mr. Lin- 
coln said, in reply to the question, " What has your education 
been ? " — " Well, as to education, the newspapers are correct. I 
never went to school more than six months in my life. I can say 
this, — that, among my earliest recollections, I remember how, when 
a mere child, I used to get irritated when anybody talked to me 
in a way I could not understand. I don't think I ever got angry 
at any thing else in my life; but that always disturbed my temper, 
and has ever since. I can remember going to my little bedroom, 
after hearing the neighbors talk of an evening with my father, and 
spending no small part of the night walking up and down, and 
trying to make out what was the exact meaning of some of their, 
to me, dark sayings. 

" 1 could not sleep, although I often tried to, when I got on 
guch a hunt after an idea, until I had caught it : and, when I 
thought I had got it, I was not satisfied until I had repeated it 
over and over; until I had put it in language plain enough, as I 
thought, for any boy I knew to comprehend. This was a kind of 
passion with me, and it has stuck by me ; for I am never easy 
now, when I am handling a thought, till I have bounded it north, 
and bounded it south, and bounded it east, and bounded it west. 

" But your question reminds me of a bit of education which I 
am bound in honesty to mention. In the course of my law-read- 
ing, I constantly came upon the word demonMrate. I thought, at 
first, that I understood its meaning, but soon became satisfied 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 393 

that I did not. I said to myself, ' Wtiat do I mean when I demon' 
sirute, more than when I reason or prove? How does demonstra- 
tion differ from any other proof?' I consulted Webster's Dic- 
tionary. That told of ' certain proof,' ' proof beyond the possi- 
bility of doubt ; ' but I could form no sort of idea what sort of 
proof that was. I thought that a great many things were proved 
beyond the possibility of a doubt, without recourse to any such 
extraordinary process of reasoning as I understood demonstration 
to be. 

" I consulted all the dictionaries and books of reference I could 
find, but with no better results. You might as well have defined 
blue to a blind man. At last, I said, ' Lincoln, you can never make 
a lawyer if you do not understand what demonstrate means ; ' and 
I left my situation in Springfield, went home to my father's house, 
and staid there until I could give any proposition in the six books 
of Euclid at sight. I then found out what demonstrate means, 
and went back to my law-studies." 

The superintendent of the Five-points' Sabbath School relates 
the following incident in reference to Mr. Lincoln during his visit 
to that city : " One Sunday morning, I saw a tall, remarkable-look- 
ing man enter the room, and take a seat among us. He listened 
with fixed attention to our exercises ; and his countenance ex* 
pressed such a genuine interest, that I approached him, and sug- 
gested that he might be willing to say something to the children. 
He accepted the invitation with evident pleasure, and, coming 
forward, began a simple address, which at once fascinated every 
little hearer, and hushed the room into silence. His language 
was exceedingly beautiful, and his tones musical with intense feel- 
ing. The little faces would droop into sad conviction as he ut- 
tered sentences of warning, and would brighten into sunshine as 
he spoke cheerful words of promise. Once or twice he attempted 
to close his remarks ; but the imperative shout of ' Go on ! oh, do 
go on ! ' would compel him to resume. As I looked upon the 
gaunt and sinewy frame of the stranger, and marked his powerful 
head and determined features, now touched into softness by the 
impressions of the moment, I felt an irrepressible curiosity to 
learn something more about him ; and, while he was quietly leav- 
ing tlie room, I begged to know his name. ' It is Abraham Lin- 
coln, from Illinois.' " 

The secessionists had now resolved, at all hazards, to break up 



396 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the Union. The great object was to find a plausible excuso. 
The real reason was, that the free States were increasing so rap- 
idly, both in number and population, that the slave States could 
no longer retain the direction of the Government. They at that 
time had possession of the government, of the army, the navy, the 
treasury. They scattered the navy, dispersed the army, dis- 
mantled the forts and arsenals in the free States, accumulated 
arms and munitions of war in the slave States, and squandered 
the money in the treasury. They hoped thus to render the Na- 
tional Government impotent. 

They declared, that, should the Republican party nominate, and 
elect to the presidency, a man who was opposed to slavery, they 
would break up the Union. They then did every thing in their 
power, in a treacherous and underhand way, to secure the elec- 
tion of a Republican President, that they might have this fancied 
excuse for their revolt. Future ages will scarcely credit these 
assertions ; but no intelligent man at the present time will deny 
them. 

In the spring of 1860, the Democratic party held its National 
Convention in Charleston, S. C, to nominate its candidate for 
the presidency. The proslavery men bolted, that they might 
break up the party, and thus secure the election of a Re- 
publican candidate. They succeeded. The regular Democratic 
Convention nominated Stephen A. Douglas. The secession party 
organized what they called a Constitutional Convention, and nomi- 
nated John C. Breckenridge, one of the most radical of the pro- 
slavery men. A National Union Convention met, and nominated 
John Bell. This division rendered it almost certain that the Re 
publican nominee, whoever he might be, would be elected. The 
secessionists were jovial, and pressed on in the preparation for 
decisive action. 

The great Republican Convention met at Chicago on the 16th 
of June, 1860. The delegates and strangers who crowded the 
city amounted to twenty-five thousand. An immense building, 
called " The Wigwam," was reared to accommodate the Convention. 
There were eleven candidates for whom votes were thrown. 
William H. Seward, a man whose fame as a statesman had long 
filled the land, was the most prominent. It was generally supposed 
that he would be the nominee. On the first ballot, Mr. Seward 
received one hundred and seventy-three and a half votes, and 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 397 

Abraham Lincoln one hundred and two. Nearly all the votes 
were now concentred upon these two candidates. Upon the 
second ballot, Mr. Seward received one hundred and eighty-four 
and a half votes, and Mr. Lincoln one hundred and eighty-one. 
And now came the third ballot, which, it was very evident, would 
be decisive. Abraham Lincoln received two hundred and thirty- 
one and a half votes, lacking but one vote and a half of an election. 
Immediately one of the delegates from Ohio rose, and transferred 
the four votes of Ohio to Mr. Lincoln. This gave him the nomi- 
nation. We cannot better describe the scene which ensued than 
in the language of Mr. Holland : — 

" The excitement had culminated. After a moment's pause, like 
the sudden and breathless stillness that precedes the hurricane, the 
storm of wild, uncontrollable, and almost insane enthusiasm, de- 
scended. The scene surpassed description. During all the ballot- 
ings, a man had been standing upon the roof, communicating the 
results to the outsiders, who, in surging masses, far outnumbered 
those who were packed into the Wigwam. To this man one of the 
secretaries shouted, ' Fire the salute ! Abe Lincoln is nominated ! ' 
Then, as the cheering inside died away, the roar began on the out- 
side, and swelled up from the excited masses, like the voice of 
many waters. This the insiders heard, and to it they replied. 
Thus deep called to deep with such a frenzy of sympathetic 
enthusiasm, that even the thundering salute of cannon was unheard 
by many on the platform." 

When this burst of enthusiasm had expended itself, it was moved 
that the nomination should be unanimous ; and it was made 
80. Mr. Lincoln was at this time at Springfield, two hundred 
miles distant, anxiously awaiting the result of the ballotings. He 
was in the office of " The Springfield Journal," receiving the tele- 
graphic despatches. At last a messenger came in with a despatch 
in his hand, and announced, — 

" The Convention has made a nominatioc, and Mr. Seward is — 
the second man on the list." 

The joyful scene which ensued with Mr. Lincoln's friends mtist 
be imagined. When the excitement had a little subsided, he said, 
" There is a little woman on Eighth Street who has some interest 
in this matter;" and, putting the telegram into his pocket, he 
walked home. Little did he then dream of the weary years of toil 
and care, and the bloody death, to which that telegram doomed him ; 



398 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

and as little did he dream that he was to render services to his 
country, which would fix upon him the eyes of the whole civilized 
world, and which would give him a place in the affections and 
reverence of his countrymen, second only, if second, to that of 
Washing-ton. 

The following day, a committee of the Convention waited upon 
him with the announcement of his nomination. As it was known 
that they were to come, some of Mr. Lincoln's friends sent in 
several hampers of wine for their entertainment. But he was not 
only a temperance man, but a " total-abstinence " man. Resolved 
not to allow that new temptation to induce him to swerve from his 
principles, he returned the gift with kindest words of gratitude 
for the favor intended. 

Mr. Lincoln received the delegation at the door of his house, 
and conducted them into his parlor. Gov. Morgan of New York, 
in appropriate phrase, informed him that he had been unanimously 
nominated by the Convention to the oflSce of President of the 
United States, and asked permission to report his acceptance. 
At the close of the ceremony, Mr. Lincoln said, in substance, — 

" As a suitable conclusion of an interview so important, courtesy 
requires that I should treat the committee with something to 
drink." Then, stepping to the door, he called ''Mary, Mary ! " A 
young girl responded to the call. He said a few Avords to her in 
a low tone of voice, and closed the door. In a few moments, the 
girl entered, bringing a large waiter containing a pitcher ana 
several tumblers, which she placed upon a centre-table. Mi. 
Lincoln then rose, and said, — 

"Gentlemen, we must pledge our mutual healths in the most 
healthy beverage which God has given to man. It is the only 
beverage I have ever used or allowed in my family ; and I cannot 
conscientiously depart from it on this occasion. It is pure Adara't^ 
ale, from the spring." 

Taking a tumbler, he touched it to his lips; and all his guests 
followed his example. The President subsequently related the 
following singular incident as having taken place at that time : — 
" A very singular occurrence took place the day I was nominat- 
ed at Chicago, of which I am reminded to-night. In the after- 
noon of the day, returning homo from down town, I went up stairs 
to Mrs. Lincoln's sitting-room. Feeling somewhat tired, I lay 
down upon a cQich in the room, directly opposite a bureau, upon 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 399 

nrbich was a looking-glass. As I reclined, my eye fell upon the 
glass, and I saw distinctly two images of myself, exactly alike, 
escept that one was a little paler than the other. I arose, and lay 
down again with the same result. It made me quite uncomforta- 
ble for a few moments ; but, some friends coming in, the matter 
passed out of my mind. 

" The next day, while walking in the street, I was suddenly 
reminded of the circumstance ; and the disagreeable sensation pro- 
duced by it returned. I determined to go home, and place myself 
in the same position; and, if the same effect was produced, I would 
make up my mind that it was the natural result of some principle 
of refraction or optics which I did not understand, and dismiss it. 
I tried the experiment with a like result; and, as I said to myself, 
accounting for it on some principle unknown to me, it ceased to 
trouble me. 

'*' But. some time ago, I tried *o produce the same effect here by 
arranging a glass and couch in the same position, without effect. 
My wife was somewhat worried about it. She thought it was a 
sign that I was to be elected to a second term of oflSce, and that the 
paleness of one of the faces was an omen that I should not see life 
through the second term." 

At the time of his nomination, Mr. Lincoln was fifty-two years 
of age. There was then but little doubt that he would be elected. 
Crowds flocked to pay their homage to one, who, as President, 
would soon have so immense a patronage at his disposal. It 
became necessary that a room should be set apart in the State 
House for his receptions. From morning till night, he was 
busy. In looking over a book which his friends had prepared, 
and which contained the result of a careful canvass of the city of 
Springfield, showing how each man would vote, he was surprised 
and greatly grieved to find that most of the ministers were against 
him. As he closed the book, he said sadly, — 

" Here are twenty-three ministers of different denominations, 
and all of them are against me but three. Mr. Bateman, I am not 
a Christian ; God knows, I would be one : but I have carefully read 
the Bible, and I do not so understand this book. These men well 
know that I am for freedom in the Territories, freedom everywhere 
as far as the Constitution and laws will permit ; and that my oppo- 
nents are for slavery. They know this ; and yet with this book 
in their hands, in the light of which human bondage cannot live 



400 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

a moment, they are going to vote against me. I do not understand 
this." 

Then, after a moment's pause, he added, "Doesn't it appear 
strange that men can ignore the moral aspects of this contest ? A 
revelation could not make it plainer to me that slavery or the 
Government must be destroyed. It seems as if God had borne 
with this slavery until the very teachers of religion have come to 
defend it from the Bible, and to claim for it a divine character 
and sanction; and now the cup of iniquity is full, and the viald 
of wrath will be poured out." 

The election-day came. Mr. Lincoln received a hundred and 
eighty electoral votes; Mr. Douglas, twelve; Mr. Breckenridge, 
seventy-two ; Mr. Bell, thirty-nine. The result of the election was 
known early in November. Nearly four months would transpire 
before the 4th of March, 1861, when he was to enter upon his 
term of office. 

The spirit manifested by the slaveholders on this occasion is 
fairly developed in the following article contained in " The Rich- 
mond Examiner" of April 23, 1861: — 

"The capture of Washington City is perfectly within the power 
of Virginia and Maryland, if Virginia will only make the effort by 
her constituted authorities ; nor is there a single moment to ose. 
The entire population pant for the onset. There never was half 
the unanimity among the people before, nor a tithe of the zeal upvm 
any subject, that is now manifested to take Washington, and drive 
from it every black Republican who is a dweller there. 

" From the mountain-tops and valleys to the shores of the sea, 
there is one wild shout of fierce resolve to capture Washington Cit}' 
at all and every human hazard. That filthy cage of unclean birds 
must and will assuredly be purified by fire. The people are 
determined upon it, and are clamorous for a leader to conduct 
them to the onslaught. The leader will assuredly arise ; ay, and 
that right speedily. 

" It is not to be endured that this flight of abolition harpies shall 
come down from the black North for their roosts in the heart 
of the South, to defile and brutalize the land. They come as our 
enemies. They act as our most deadly foes. They promise us 
bloodshed and fire ; and that is the only promise they have ever 
redeemed. The fanatical yell for the immediate subjugation of the 
whole South is going up hourly from the united voices of all the 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 401 

North ; and, for the purpose of making their work sure, they have 
determined to hold Washington City as the point whence to carry 
on their brutal warfare. 

" Our people can take it ; they will take it ; and Scott the arch- 
traitor, and Lincoln the beast, combined, cannot prevent it. The 
just indignation of an outraged and deeply-injured people will 
teach the Illinois ape to repeat his race, and retrace his journey 
across the border of the free negro States still more rapidly than 
he came ; and Scott the traitor will be given the opportunity at 
the same time to try the difference between * Scott's Tactics ' and 
the * Shanghae Drill ' for quick movements. 

" Great cleansing and purification are needed, and will be given 
to that festering sink of iniquity, that wallow of Lincoln and 
Scott, — the desecrated city of Washington ; and many indeed 
will be the carcasses of dogs and caitiffs that will blacken the air 
upon the gallows before the great work is accomplished. So let 
it be I " 

One naturally pauses to inquire the cause of all this wrath ; 
and no one can refrain from being amused to find that it was sim- 
ply that a majority of the nation were opposed to the extension of 
slavery into the Territories, and that that majority had constitu- 
tionally elected as President one of the best and most eminent 
men in the nation, who was pledged to oppose, so far as he consti- 
tutionally could, slavery-extension. Again and again, Mr. Lincoln 
had declared, and so had the party which elected him, that he had 
no right to interfere with slavery in the States ; that the compro- 
mises of the Constitution left that question with each State ; and 
that he had no power to touch the domestic institutions of the 
States, except as a war-measure, in the case of war, to save the 
nation from ruin. 

On Mr. Lincoln's journey to Washington, he made numerous 
addresses to the multitudes who thronged to greet him. At Cin- 
cinnati, a large number of Kentuckians were present. He said to 
them in a playful way, — 

" You perhaps want to know what we will do with you. I will 
tell you, so far as I am authorized to speak. We mean to treat 
you, as near as we possibly can, as Washington, Jefferson, and 
Madison treated you. We mean to leave you alone, and in no 
way to interfere with your institutions ; to abide by all and every 
compromise of the Constitution ; in a word, coming back to tho 

61 



402 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

original proposition, to treat you, as far as degenerate men (if we 
have degenerated) may, according to the examples of those coblo 
fathers, Washington, Jefierson, and Madison. We mean to remem- 
ber that you are as good as we ; that there is no difference be- 
twef^n us other than the difference of circumstances. We mean 
to recognize and bear in mind always that you have as good hearts 
in your bosoms as other people, or as good as we claim lo have ; 
and treat you accordingly," 

At Buffalo he said, " Your worthy mayor has thought fit to ex- 
press the hope that I shall be able to relieve the country from the 
present, or, I should say, the threatened difficulties. I am sure 
that I bring a heart true to the work. For the ability to perform 
it, I trust in that Supreme Being who has never forsaken this fa- 
vored land. Without that assistance, I shall surely fail; with it, I 
cannot fail." 

At Philadelphia, where he was received with the greatest enthu- 
siasm, he gave utterance to the following noble sentiments : '^ 1 
have often inquired of myself what great principle or idea it was 
that kept this confederacy so long together. It was not the mere 
matter of the separation of the colonies from the mother-land, 
but that sentiment in the Declaration of Independence which gave 
liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but, I hope, to the 
world for all future time. It was that which gave promise, that, 
in due time, the weight would be lifted from the shoulders of all 
men. This was a sentiment embodied in the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. Now, my friends, can this country be saved on this 
basis ? If it can, I shall consider myself one of the happiest men 
in the world if I can help save it ; if it cannot be saved on thai 
principle, it will be truly awful. But, if this country cannot be 
saved without giving up that principle, I was about to say 1 
would rather be assassinated upon this spot than surrender it. 
Now, in my view of the present aspect of affairs, there need be no 
bloodshed or war. There is no necessity for it. I am not in favor 
of such a course ; and I may say in advance, that there will be no 
bloodshed unless it be forced upon the Government, and then it 
will be compelled to act in self-defence." 

At Harrisburg, where there was a large military display, he 
remarked, " While I am exceedingly gratified to see the mani- 
festation in your streets of the military force here, and exceedingly 
gratified at your promise here to use that force upon a proper 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 40b 

emergency, I desire to repeat, to preclude any possible miscon- 
struction, that I do most sincerely hope that we shall have no use for 
them ; that it will never become their duty to shed blood, and 
most especially never to shed fraternal blood. I promise, that, so 
far as I may have wisdom to direct, if so painful a result shall in 
any wise be brought about, it shall be through no fault of mine." 

In South Carolina, four days after the election, a bill was intro- 
duced into the legislature, calling out ten thousand volunteers ; 
her two senators in congress resigned their seats ; and a conven- 
tion was called to pass an act of secession. The rebels had made 
their preparations for vigorous action. They had nothing to fear 
from Mr. Buchanan, and their object was to get their strength 
consolidated before Mr. Lincoln should come into power. 

On the 27th of December, I860, Fort Moultrie and Castle Pinck- 
ney were seized, and the revenue-cutter " William Aikin " taken 
possession of at Charleston. Three days after, the arsenal was 
seized, On the 2d of January, 1861, Fort Macon in North Caro- 
lina, and the arsenal at Fayetteville, fell into the hands of the 
rebels. On the 3d, an armed mob from Georgia took possession 
of Forts Pulaski and Jackson, and the arsenal at Savannah. The 
next df^y, the 4th, Fort Morgan, and the arsenal at Mobile, were 
seized by a band of Alabamians. On the 8th, Forts Johnson and 
Caswell, at Smithville, N. C, were captured, without a struggle, 
by the rebels. The next day, the 9th, '' The Star of the 
West," an unarmed steamer bearing supplies to the garrison in 
Fort Sumter, was fired upon by a rebel battery, and driven back. 
On the 12th, Fort M'Rae, Fort Barrancas, and the navy-yard at 
Pensacola, in Florida, were taken possession of by the rebels. 
The day before, armed gangs in Louisiana seized Forts Pike, St. 
Philip, and Jackson, and the arsenal at Baton Rouge. 

These United-States forts had cost the National Government 
$5,947,000; were pierced for 1,091 guns, and adapted for a war 
garrison of 5,430 men. Mr. Buchanan did not lift a finger to arrest 
or to resent these outrages. 

On the 17th of December, the convention in South Carolina 
declared the Union dissolved, and that South Carolina was a free, 
sovereign, and independent State. This act was speedily imitated 
by several other slave States. The rapidly-recurring scenes of 
these days of darkness and gloom we have not space here to 
describe. The air was filled with rumors that President Lincoln 



404 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was to be assassinated on his journey to Washington. In taking 
leave of his friends at the depot in Springfield, he said, in a speech 
full of tenderness and pathos, — 

" My friends, no one not in my position can appreciate the 
sadness I feel at this parting. I know not how soon I shall see 
you again. A duty devolves upon me which is perhaps greater 
than that which has devolved upon any other man since the days 
of Washington. He never would have succeeded except for the 
aid of Divine Providence, upon which he at all times relied. I 
feel that I cannot succeed without the same divine aid which 
sustained him. In the same Almighty Being I place my reliance 
for support ; and I hope that my friends will all pray that I may 
receive that divine assistance, without which I cannot succeed, 
but with which success is certain. Again I bid you all an affec- 
tionate farewell." 

In every city through which he passed, he was greeted with 
enthusiasm perhaps never before equalled in the United States. 
It was evident, however, that the secessionists were seeking his 
life. At one time, an attempt was made to throw the train off the 
track. At Cincinnati, a hand-grenade was found concealed upon 
the train. A gang in Baltimore had arranged, upon his arrival, to 
" get up a row," and, in the confusion, to make sure of his death 
with revolvers and hand-grenades. A detective unravelled the 
plot. A secret and special train was provided to take him from 
Harrisburg, through Baltimore, at an unexpected hour of the 
night. The train started at half-past ten ; and, to prevent any pos- 
sible communication on the part of the secessionists with their 
Confederate gang in Baltimore, as soon as the train had started, 
the telegraph-wires were cut. 

Mr. Lincoln took a sleeping-car, and passed directly through 
Baltimore to Washington, where he arrived at half-past six o'clock 
in the morning. His safe arrival was immediately telegraphed 
over the country. Great anxiety was felt in reference to the 
inauguration-day. Washington was full of traitors. Slavery had 
so debauched the conscience in the slaveholding States, that the 
assassination of a man who did not believe in slavery was scarce 
deemed a crime. 

The week of the inauguration was one of the greatest peril and 
anxiety the nation had ever experienced. The air was filled with 
rumors of conspiracies. It was well known that there were 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 405 

thousands of desperate men, resolved by tumult and murder to 
prevent the inauguration, and then to seize the capital. Multi- 
tudes of strange-looking men thronged the streets of Washington, 
armed with bowie-knives and revolvers. 

The morning of the 4th of March dawned serene and beautiful. 
Even at an early hour, Pennsylvania Avenue presented such a 
mass of human beings as had never crowded it before. At nine 
o'clock, the procession moved from the White House. It was very 
imposing. A triumphal car, magnificently draped, emblematic 
of the Constitution, bore thirty-four very beautiful young girls, 
picturesquely dressed, as representatives of the several States ; 
none bging recognized as having seceded. 

Mr. Buchanan and Mr. Lincoln rode side by side in the same 
carriage. They ascended the long flight of steps of the Capitol 
arm-in-arm. It was observed that Mr. Buchanan looked pale and 
arxxious, and that he was nervously excited. Mr. Lincoln's face 
was slightly flushed, his lips compressed ; and his countenance wore 
an expression of great firmness and seriousness. Gen. Scott, in 
his Autobiography, says, — 

" The inauguration of President Lincoln was perhaps the most 
critical and hazardous event with which I have ever been con- 
nected. In the preceding two months, I had received more than 
fifty letters, many from points distant from each other, some ear- 
nestly dissuading me from being present at the event, and others 
distinctly threatening assassination if I dared to protect the cere- 
mony by military force." 

But for the formidable military display, there would unquestion- 
ably have been tumult and assassination. Gen. Scott called out 
the Washington Volunteers ; brought from a distance two bat- 
teries of horse-artillery, with detachments of cavalry and infantry, 
all regulars. The volunteers escorted the President, while the 
regulars flanked the movement, marching in parallel streets. A 
fine company of sappers and miners led the advance. It was 
under this imposing array of cannon and bayonets that it was 
necessary to conduct the legally-chosen President of the United 
States to his inauguration. 

Mr. Lincoln took his stand upon the platform of the eastern 
portico of the Capitol. Thirty thousand persons stood before him. 
There were many sharpshooters, who, from the distance of nearly 
b mile, could throw a bullet into his heart. It is hardly too 



406 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

much to say, that the nation trembled. Mr. Lincoln unrolled a 
manuscript, and in a clear voice, which seemed to penetrate with 
its distinct articulation the remotest ear, read his inaugural. We 
have not space for the whole of this noble document. 

" Apprehension," said he, " seems to exist among the people of 
the Southern States, that, by the accession of a Republican admin- 
istration, their property and their peace and personal security are 
to be endangered. There has never been any reasonable cause for 
such apprehension. Indeed, the most ample evidence to the con- 
trary has all the while existed, and been open to their inspection. 
It is found in nearly all the published speeches of him who now 
addresses you. I do but quote from one of those speeches, when 
I declare that I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, to inter- 
fere with the institution of slavery in the States where it exists. 
I believe I have no lawful right to do so ; and I have no inclina- 
tion to do so. Those who nominated and elected me did so with 
the full knowledge that I had made this and made many similar 
declarations, and had never recanted them ; and, more than this, 
they placed in the platform, for my acceptance, and as a law to 
themselves and to me, the clear and emphatic resolution which I 
DOW read : — 

'' ' Besolved, That the maintenance inviolate of the rights of the 
States, and especially the right of each State to order and control 
its own domestic institutions according to its ow^ judgment ex- 
clusively, is essential to that balance of power on which the per- 
fection and endurance of our political fabric depend ; and we 
denounce the lawless invasion by armed force of the soil of any 
State or Territory, no matter under what pretext, as among the 
gravest of crimes.' 

" I now reiterate these sentiments ; and, in doing so, I only press 
upon the public attention the most conclusive evidence of which 
the case is susceptible, that the property, peace, and security of 
no section are to be in any wise endangered by the now incom- 
ing administration. 

*' I add, too, that all the protection which, consistently with the 
Constitution and the laws, can be given, will be cheerfully given 
to all the States, when lawfully demanded, for whatever cause, as 
cheerfully to one section as to another. 

" A disruption of the Federal Union, heretofore only menaced, ia 
now formidably attempted. I hold, that, in the contemplation of 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 407 

universal law and of the Constitution, the union of these States is 
perpetual. Perpetuity is implied, if not expressed, in the funda- 
mental law of all national governments. It is safe to assert, that 
no government proper ever had a provision in its organic law for 
its own termination. Continue to execute all the express pro- 
visions of our National Constitution, and the Union will endure 
forever; it being impossible to destroy it, except by some action 
not provided for in the instrument itself. 

"Again: if the United States be not a government proper, but 
an association of States in the nature of a contract merely, can it, 
as a contract, be peaceably unmade by less than all the parties 
who made it ? One party to a contract may violate it, — break it, 
so to speak; but does it not require all to lawfully rescind it? 
Descending from these general principles, we find the proposition, 
that, in legal contemplation, the Union is perpetual, confirmed by 
the history of the Union itself. 

" The Union is much older than the Constitution. It was 
formed, in fact, by the Articles of Association, in 1774. it was 
matured and continued in the Declaration of Independence, in 
1776. It was further matured, and the faith of all the then thirteen 
States expressly plighted and engaged that it should be perpetual^ 
by the Articles of the Confederation, in 1778 ; and finally, in 1778, 
one of the declared objects for ordaining and establishing the 
Constitution was to form a more perfect union. But, if the destruc- 
tion of the Union by one or by a part only of the States be law- 
fully possible, the Union is less perfect than before ; the Constitu- 
tion having lost the vital element of perpetuity. 

" It follows from these views, that no State, upon its own mere 
motion, can lawfully get out of the Union ; that resolves and 
ordinances to that efiect are legally void ; and that acts of vio- 
lence within any State or States, against the authority of tho 
United States, are insurrectionary or revolutionary, according to 
circumstances. 

'' I therefore consider, that, in view of the Constitution and the 
laws, the Union is unbroken ; and, to the extent of my ability, I 
shall take care, as the Constitution itself expressly enjoins upon me, 
that the laws of the Union shall be faithfully executed in all the 
States. Doing this, which I deem to be only a simple duty on my 
part, I shall perfectly perform it, so far as is practicable, unless 
my rightful masters, the American people, shall withhold the 



408 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

requisition, or in some authoritative manner direct the con 
trary. 

" I trust this will not be regarded as a menace, but only as th« 
declared purpose of the Union, that it will constitutionally defend 
and maintain itself. 

" The power confided to me will be used to hold, occupy, and 
possess the property and places belonging to the Government, and 
collect the duties and imposts ; but, beyond what may be neces- 
sary for these objects, there will be no invasion, no using of force 
against or among the people anywhere. 

'* All the vital rights of minorities and of individuals are so 
plainly assured to them by affirmations and negations, guaranties 
and prohibitions, in the Constitution, that controversies never arise 
concerning them ; but no organic law can ever be framed with a 
provision specifically applicable to every question which may oc- 
cur in practical administration. No foresight can anticipate, nor 
any document of reasonable length contain, express provisions for 
all possible questions. Shall fugitives from labor be surrendered 
by National, or by State authorities ? The Constitution does not 
expressly say. Must Congress protect slavery in the Territories ? 
The Constitution does not expressly say. From questions of this 
class spring all our constitutional controversies, and we divide 
upon them into majorities and minorities. 

" If the minority will not acquiesce, the majority must, or the 
Government must cease. There is no alternative for continuing 
the Government but acquiescence on the one side or the other. 
If a minority in such a case will secede rather than acquiesce, 
they make a precedent, which, in turn, will ruin and divide them ; 
for a minority of their own will secede from them whenever a 
majority refuses to be controlled by such a minority: for in- 
stance, why not any portion of a new confederacy, a year or two 
hence, arbitrarily secede again, precisely as portions of the pres- 
ent Union now claim to secede from it? All who cherish dis- 
union sentiments are now being educated to the exact temper of 
doing this. Is there such perfect identity of interests among the 
States to compose a new Union as to produce harmony only, and 
prevent secession? Plainly the central idea of secession is the 
essence of anarchy. 

" One section of our country believes slavery is right, and 
ought to be extended ; while the other believes it is wrong, and 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 40V} 

ought not to be extended. And this is the only substantial dis- 
pute. Physically speaking, we cannot separate ; we cannot re- 
move our respective sections from each other, nor build an impass- 
able wall between them. A husband and wife may be divorced, 
and go out of the presence and beyond the reach of each other ; 
but the different parts of our country cannot do this. They can- 
not but remain face to face ; and intercourse, either amicable or 
hostile, must continue between them. Is it possible, then, to 
make that intercourse more advantageous or more satisfactory 
after separation than before? Can aliens make treaties easier 
than friends can make laws ? Can treaties be more faithfully en- 
forced between aliens than laws can among friends? Suppose 
yon go to war, you cannot fight always ; and when, after much 
loss on both sides, and no gain on either, you cease fighting, the 
identical questions as to terms of intercourse are again upon you. 

'' This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who 
mliabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing 
government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amend- 
ing, or their revolutionary right to dismember or overthrow it. I 
cannot be ignorant of the fact that many worthy and patriotic 
citizens are desirous of having the National Constitution amended. 
"W" hile I make no recommendation of amendment, I fully recognize 
the full authority of the people over the whole subject, to be ex- 
ercised in either of the modes prescribed in the instrument 
itself; and I should, under existing circumstances, favor rather 
than oppose a fair opportunity being afibrded the people to act 
upon it, 

" My countrymen, one and all, think calmly and well upon this 
whole subject. Nothing valuable can be lost by taking time. 

" If there be an object to hurry any of you in hot haste to a 
Btep which you would never take deliberately, that object will be 
frustrated by taking time ; but no good object can be frustrated 
by it. 

" Such of you as are now dissatisfied still have the old Consti- 
tution unimpaired, and, on the sensitive point, the laws of your 
own framing under it ; while the new administration will have no 
immediate power, if it would, to change either. 

" If it were admitted that you who are dissatisfied hold the right 
side in the dispute, there is still no single reason for precipitate ac- 
tion. Intelligence, p?*\"iotism, Christianity, and a firm reliance on 

62 



410 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Him who has never yet forsaken this favored land, are still compe« 
tent to adjust, in the best way, all our present difficulties. 

"In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in 
mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The Government will 
not assail you. 

" You can have no conflict without being yourselves the ag- 
gressors. You have no oath registered in heaven to destroy the 
Government ; while I shall have the most solemn one to ' preserve, 
protect, and defend ' it. 

" I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We 
must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must 
not break, our bonds of affection. 

" The mystic cords of memory, stretching from every battle- 
field and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all 
over this broad land, will j^et swell the chorus of the Union, when 
again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our 
nature." 

At the close of this solemn and imposing scene, Mr. Lincoln 
was escorted back to the White House, where Mr. Buchanan took 
leave of him. He was asked if he felt alarmed at any time while 
reading his address. His reply was, that he had often experienced 
greater fear in speaking to a dozen Western men on the subject 
of temperance. 

And now commenced his life of care and toil and sorrow, to ter- 
minate in a bloody death. Mr. Lincoln's conciliatory words had no 
softening influence upon the hearts of the secessionists. They 
knew that it was only by violence and revolution that they could 
so strengthen the institution of slavery as to make it permanent 
upon this continent ; and they still believed that the North would 
yield to their demands, rather than appeal to the dreadful arbitra- 
ment of the sword. " The Yankees," said one of their speakers, 
" are a cowardly race, and I will pledge myself to hold in the hollow 
of my hand and to drink every drop of blood i">iat will be shed." 

The demon of rebellion was unappeased. Treason was every- 
where. Openly avowed traitors to the Uijion were in every 
department of the Government. No step could be taken, and 
there could be no deliberation, which was not immediately re- 
ported to the rebels. Seven States were now in revolt. There 
were seven other slave States, which it was absolutely necessary 
the secessionists should secure in order to have any chance of 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 411 

success. On the 12th of April, the rebels in Charleston opened 
fire upon Fort Sumter. This introduced the war. 

The rebels were so infatuated as to anticipate an easy victory. 
They had already inaugurated their government at Montgomery. 
Elated with the news of the bombardment and capture of Fort 
Sumter, Mr. Walker, the rebel Secretary of War, addressing the 
shouting throng, said, — 

" No man can tell where this war, commenced this day, will end ; 
but I will prophesy that the flag which now flaunts the breeze 
here will float over the dome of the old Capitol at Washington 
before the 1st of May. Let them try Southern chivalry, and test 
the extent of Southern resources, and it may float eventually over 
Faneuil Hall itself." 

With wonderful unanimity, the North rallied around the imper- 
illed flag of the nation. The rebels crushed out all opposition 
to secession within their borders, and forced every available man 
into the ranks. Mr. Lincoln, three days after the capture of Sum- 
ter, issued a proclamation cafling for seventy-five thousand troops 
to defend the national capital, which the rebels threatened to seize ; 
and soon after he declared the ports in the rebellious States under 
blockade. 

In an evil hour, Virginia joined the rebels. Terrible was her 
punishment. Mr. Douglas nobly came forward, and gave all of 
his strong influence to Mr. Lincoln. As he read the President's 
proclamation calling for seventy-five thousand men, he said, — 

" Mr. President, I cordially concur in every word of that docu- 
ment, except that, in the call for seventy-five thousand men, I 
would make it two hundred thousand. You do not know the dis- 
honest purposes of those men as well as I do." 

On the 1st of May, Senator Douglas addressed an immense 
gathering in the city of Chicago. Ten thousand persons thronged 
the Wigwam. The eloquent senator spoke in strains which thrilled 
the heart of the nation. " I beg you to believe," said he, " that 
I will not do you or myself the injustice to think that this magnifi- 
cent ovation is personal to myself I rejoice to know that it ex- 
presses your devotion to the Constitution, the Union, and the flag 
of our country. I will not conceal my gratification at the incon- 
trovertible test this vast audience presents, — that whatever polit- 
ical differences or party questions may have divided us, yet you 
all had a conviction, that, when the country should be in danger, 



412 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

my loyalty could be relied on. That the present danger is immi- 
nent, no man can conceal. If war must come, if the bayonet 
must be used to maintain the Constitution, I say before God, my 
conscience is clean. I have struggled long for a peaceful solution 
of the difficulty. I have not only tendered those States what was 
their right, but I have gone to the very extreme of magnanimity. 

" The return we receive is war, armies marched upon our capi- 
tal, obstruction and danger to our navigation, letters of marque 
to invite pirates to prey upon our commerce, and a concerted 
movement to blot out the United States of America from the map 
of ihe globe. The question is, ' Are we to maintain the country 
of o'lr fathers, or allow it to be stricken down by those, who, 
when they can no longer govern, threaten to destroy? ' 

"What cause, what excuse, do disunionists give us for breaking 
up the best government on which the sun of heaven ever shed its 
rays ? They are dissatisfied with the result of the presidential 
election. Did they never get beaten before ? Are we to resort 
to the sword when we get beaten at the ballot-box ? I understand 
it that the voice of the people, expressed in the mode appointed 
by the Constitution, must command the obedience of every citi- 
zen. They assume, on the election of a particular candidate, that 
their rights are not safe in the Union. What evidence do they 
present of this ? I defy any man to show any act on which it is 
based. What act has been omitted to be done ? I appeal to these 
assembled thousands, that, so far as the constitutional rights of 
slaveholders are concerned, nothing has been done, and nothing 
omitted, of which they can complain. 

" There has never been a time, from the day that Washington 
was inaugurated first President of these United States, when the 
rights of the Southern States stood firmer under the laws of the 
land than they do now ; there never was a time when they had 
not as good cause for disunion as they have to-day. What good 
cause have they now, which has not existed under every adminis- 
tration ? 

" If they say the territorial question, now, for the first time, 
there is no act of Congress prohibiting slaver}^ anywhere. If it 
be the non-enforcement of the laws, the only complaints I have 
heard have been of the too vigorous and faithful fullfilment of 
the Fugitive-slave Law. Then what reason have they? The 
slavery question is a mere excuse. The election of Lincoln is a 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 413 

mere pretext. The present secession movement is the result of 
an enormous conspiracy formed more than a year since, formed by 
leaders in the Southern Confederacy more than twelve months ago. 

" But this is no time for the detail of causes. The conspiracy 
is now known. Armies have been raised, war is levied, to accom- 
plish it. There are only two sides to the question. Every man 
must be for the United States or against it. There can be no 
neutrals in this war; only^a^Wo^s or traitors" 

We have no space here to enter into the details of the war 
which ensued, which cost half a million of lives, and an expendi- 
ture of treasure and a destruction of property which cannot be 
computed. On the 6th of March, 1862, Mr. Lincoln recommended 
that the United States should co-operate with any State "which 
may gradually adopt abolishment of slavery, by giving to such 
State pecuniary aid, to be used at its discretion to compensate for 
inconveniences, public and private, produced by such changes of 
system." 

The rebels were continually cheered by the hope that all the 
border States would join them. Mr. Lincoln invited the represen- 
tatives of those States to a conference with him, in which he said 
to them, urging them to accept emancipation with compensation, — 

" Let the States which are in rebellion see definitely and certain- 
ly, that in no event will the States you represent ever join their 
proposed confederacy, and they cannot much longer maintain the 
contest. Can you, for your States, do better than take the course 
I urge ? The incidents of war cannot be avoided. If the war 
continue long, the institution in your States will be extinguished 
by mere friction and abrasion. It will be gone, and you will have 
nothing valuable in lieu of it. Much of its value is gone already. 
How much better for you and your people to take the step which 
at once shortens the war, and secures substantial compensation for 
that which is sure to be wholly lost in any other event ! How 
much better thus to save the money, which else we sink forever 
in the war !" 

The border-State men were blind and obdurate. Two acts, by 
Mr. Lincoln's recommendation, were soon passed by Congress. One 
confiscated the slaves of masters who were in open rebellion : the 
other abolished slavery in the District of Columbia. 

He was urged to issue a proclamation of emancipation, before, in 
his judgment, the country was prepared for it. He replied, " I do 



414 LIVES OF TEE PRESIDENTS. 

net want to issue a document that the whole world will see must 
necessarily be inoperative, like the Pope's bull against the comet." 

At length, he judged that the hour for decisive action had come ; 
and on Monday, Sept. 22, 1862, Mr. Lincoln issued his renowned 
proclamation, declaring that on the 1st of January, 1863, all the 
slaves in States then continuing in rebellion should be free. 

In cabinet-meeting, he said to Mr. Chase, "I made a solemn vow 
before God, that, if Gen. Lee should be driven back from Peim- 
sylvania, I would crown the result by the declaration of freedom 
to the slaves." 

The excitement which this proclamation created was intense ; 
many applauding, many condemning. In a brief address which he 
Boon made, he said, " What I did, I did after a very full delibera- 
tion, and under a heavy and solemn sense of responsibility. I can 
only trust in God that I have made no mistake." Two years after, 
he was enabled to say, " As a£fairs have turned, it is the central 
act of my administration, and the great event of the nineteenth 
century." 

President Lincoln gives the following account of the draughting 
of the proclamation, and the discussion in the cabinet respecting 
it: — 

" It had got to be midsummer, 1862. Things had gone on from 
bad to worse, until I felt that we had reached the end of our 
rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing ; that we had 
about played our last card, and must change our tactics, or lose the 
game. I now determined upon the adoption of the emancipation 
policy ; and, without consultation with or the knowledge of the 
cabinet, I prepared the original draught of the proclamation, and, 
after much anxious thought, called a cabinet-meeting upon the 
subject. This was the last of July, or the first part of the month 
of August, 1862. 

" This cabinet-meeting took place, I think, upon a Saturday. All 
were present, except Mr. Blair, the Postmaster-General, who was 
absent at the opening of the discussion, but came in subsequently, 
I said to the cabinet that I had resolved upon this step, and had 
not called them together to ask their advice, but to lay the subject- 
matter of a proclamation before them, suggestions as to which 
would be in order after they had heard it read. 

"Various suggestions were offered. Secretary Chase wished 
the language stronger in reference to the arming of the blacks. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 41b 

Mr. Blair, after he came in, deprecated the policy, on the ground 
that it would cost the Administration the fall elections. Nothing, 
however, was offered that I had not already fully anticipated, and 
settled in my own mind, until Secretary Seward spoke. He said 
in substance, — 

" '■ Mr. President, I approve of the proclamation ; but I question 
the expediency of its issue at this juncture. The depression of 
the public mind, consequent upon our repeated reverses, is so 
great, that I fear the effect of so important a step. It may be 
viewed as the last measure of an exhausted Government, — a cry 
for help ; the Government stretching forth her hands to Ethiopia, 
instead of Ethiopia stretching forth her hands to the Government.' 

" Hiis idea was," said Mr. Lincoln, " that it would be considered 
our last shriek on the retreat. ' Now,' continued Mr. Seward, 
'while I approve the measure, I suggest, sir, that you postpone its 
issue until you can give it to the country supported by military 
success, instead of issuing it, as would be the case now, upon the 
greatest disasters of the war.' 

" The wisdom of the view of the Secretary of State struck me 
with great force. It was an aspect of the case, that, in all my 
thought upon the subject, I had entirely overlooked. The result 
was, that I put the draught of the proclalmation aside, waiting for a 
victory. From time to time, I added or changed a line, touching 
it up here and there, anxiously watching the progress of events. 
Well, the next news we had was of Pope's disaster at Bull Run. 
Things looked darker than ever. Finally came the week of the 
battle at Antietam. I determined to wait no longer. The news 
came, I think, on Wednesday, that the advantage was on our side. 
I was then staying at the Soldiers' Home, three miles out of Wash- 
ington. Here I finished writing the second draught of the prelimi- 
nary proclamation ; came up on Saturday ; called the cabinet 
together to hear it ; and it was published the following Monday." 

At this final meeting, which took place on the 20th of Septem- 
ber, as Mr. Lincoln read the words, " And the Executive Govern- 
ment of the United States, including the military and naval 
authority thereof, will recognize the freedom of such persons," 
Mr. Seward interrupted him, saying, — 

" I think, Mr. President, that you should insert after the word 
recognize, in that sentence, the words and maintain.''^ 

The President replied, that he had already considered the im- 



416 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

port of that expression in that connection, but that he had refrained 
from inserting it, as he did not like to promise that which he was 
not sure that he could perform. " But Mr. Seward," said the 
President, " insisted ; and the words went in." It so happened 
that there were just one hundred days between the preliminary 
proclamation which was issued on the 22d of September, 1862, 
and the final proclamation which consummated the act of eman 
cipation. 

On the 1st of January, 1863, the final proclamation was issued. 
In his preamble, he alluded to his previous proclamation of prom- 
ise, and then said, " Now therefore, I, Abraham Lincoln, President 
of the United States, by virtue of the power in me invested as 
commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States, 
in time of actual armed rebellion against the authority and govern- 
ment of the United States, and as a fit and necessary war-measure 
for suppressing said rebellion, do, on this first day of January, in 
the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, 
and in accordance with my purpose so to do, publicly proclaimed 
for the full period of one hundred days from the day first above 
mentioned, order and designate as the States, and parts of States, 
wherein the people thereof respectively are this day in rebellion 
against the United States, the following ; to wit." 

Then follows a list of the States in rebellion. " And by virtue 
of the power, and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and 
declare, that all persons held as slaves within said designated 
States, and parts of States, are, and henceforth shall be, free; and 
that the Executive Government of the United States, including the 
military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and main- 
tain the freedom of said persons." 

The proclamation is concluded with the following words : 
" And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice 
warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I invoke 
the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor 
of Almighty God." 

Of this proclamation " The London Spectator " says, " We cannot 
read it without a renewed conviction that it is the noblest politi- 
cal document known to history, and should have for the nation, 
and the statesmen he left behind him, something of a sacred 
and almost prophetic character. Surely none was ever written 
under a stronger sense of the reality of God's government ; and 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 417 

certainly none written in a period of passionate conflict ever so 
completely excluded the partiality of victorious faction, and 
breathed so pure a strain of mingled justice and mercy." 

The country abounded with spies and informers ; and, as another 
measure of military necessity, the writ of habeas corpus was sus- 
pended. The President issued a circular letter to the array, 
urging the observance of the Lord's Day, and reverence for tho 
name of God. Sunday desecration, and profanity, are ever two 
great evils in an array. 

At one time, twenty-four deserters were sentenced by court- 
martial to be shot. Mr. Lincoln refused to sign the warrants for 
their execution. An officer said to him, ''Mr. President, unless 
these men are made an example of, the army itself is in danger. 
Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many." Mr. Lincoln replied, 
" Mr. General, there are already too many weeping widows in the 
United States. Don't ask me to add to their number ; for I will 
not do it." 

A petition was brought to him to pardon a man who had been 
convicted of being engaged in the slave-trade. He read it 
carefully, and then said to the one who brought the petition, — 

" My friend, that is a very touching appeal to our feelings. You 
know my weakness is to be, if possible, too easil}^ moved by ap- 
peals to mercy. If this man were guilty of the foulest murder 
that the arm of man could perpetrate, I could forgive hiai on such 
an appeal ; but the man who could go to Africa, and rob her of 
her children, and sell them into interminable bondage, with no 
other motive than that which is furnished by dollars and cents, 
is so much worse than the most depraved murderer, that he can 
never receive pardon at my hands." 

A lady, the wife of a captured rebel officer, came to Mr. Lin- 
coln, and pleaded tearfully for the release of her husband, in her 
plea, gushing from a woman's loving heart, she urged that her 
husband was a very religious man. Mr. Lincoln's feelings were 
so moved by the grief of the wife, that he released the rebel. 
He, however, remarked, — 

" You say that your husband is a religious man. Tell him that 
I say that I am not much of a judge of religion ; but that, in my 
opinion, the religion that sets men to rebel and fight against 
their government, because, as they think, that government does 
not sufficiently help some men to eat their bread in the sweat of 

53 



418 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

other men's faces, is not the sort of religion upon which men can 
get to heaven." 

The fearful trials of his office developed very rapidly Mr. liin- 
coir's religious nature. "I have been driven," he said, "man,y 
times to my knees, by the overwhelming conviction that I had 
nowhere else to go. My own wisdom, and that of all about me, 
seemed insufficient for that day. I should be the most presump- 
tuous blockhead upon this footstool, if I for one day thought that 
I could discharge the duties which have come upon me since I 
came into this place, without the aid and enlightenment of One 
who is wiser and stronger than all others." 

Mr. Carpenter, a distinguished artist who spent six months 
almost constantly in the society of the President, says of him, — 

" Absorbed in his papers, he would become unconscious of my 
presence, while I intently studied every line and shade of ex- 
pression in that furrowed face. In repose, it was the saddest face 
I ever knew. There were days when I could scarcely look into 
it without crying. During the first week of the battles of the 
Wilderness, he scarcely slept at all. Passing through the main 
hall of the domestic apartment on one of those days, I met him, 
clad in a long morning wrapper, pacing back and forth a narrow 
passage leading to one of the windows, his hands behind him, 
great black rings under his eyes, his head bent forward upon his 
breast, — altogether such a picture of the effects of sorrow, care, 
and anxiety, as would have melted the hearts of the worst of his 
adversaries. With a sorrow almost divine, he, too, could have 
said of the rebellious States, ' How often would I have gathered 
you together even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her 
wings, and ye would not ! ' " 

The Hon. Mr. Colfax says, '• Calling upon the President one 
morning in the winter of 1863, I found him looking more than 
usually pale and careworn, and inquired the reason. He replied, 
that with the bad news he had received at a late hour the pre- 
vious night, which had not yet been communicated to the press, 
he had not closed his eyes, or breakfasted ; and, with an expres- 
sion I shall never forget, he exclaimed, ' How willingly would I 
exchange places to-day with the soldier who sleeps on the ground 
in the Army of the Potomac 1 ' " 

Mr. Frederick Douglas, in the autumn of 1864, visited Washing- 
ton; and Mr. Lincoln, wishing to converse with him upon some 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN: 419 

points on which he desired the opinion and advice of that very 
remarkable man, sent his carriage, and an invitation to Mr. Doug- 
las to " come up and take a cup of tea with him." The invita- 
tion was accepted. Probably never before was a colored man an 
honored guest in tlie White House. Mr. Douglas subsequently 
remarked, " Mr Lincoln is one of the few white men I ever passed 
an hour with, who failed to remind me in some way, before the 
interview terminated, that I was a negro." 

The following is from a correspondent of " The New- York In- 
dependent : " '• On New- Year's Day, 1865, a memorable incident 
occurred, of which the like was never before seen at the White 
House. I had noticed at sundry times, during the summer, the 
wild fervor and strange enthusiasm which our colored friends 
always manifested over the name of Abraham Lincoln. His name, 
with them, seems to be associated with that of his namesake, the 
father of the faithful. In the great crowds which gather from 
time to time in front of the White House in honor of the Presi- 
dent, none shout so loudly or so wildly, and swing their hats with 
such utter abandon, while their eyes are beaming with the in- 
tensest joy, as do these simple-minded and grateful people. I 
have often laughed heartily at these exhibitions. 

" But the scene yesterday excited far other emotions. As I 
entered the door of the President's House, I noticed groups of 
colored people gathered here and there, who seemed to be 
watching earnestly the inpouring throng. For nearly two hours 
the}" hung around, until the crowd of white visitors began sensibly 
to diminish. Then they summoned courage, and began timidly to 
approach the door. Some of them were richly and gayly dressed, 
some were in tattered garments, and others in the most fanciful 
and grotesque costumes. All pressed eagerly forward. When 
they came into the presence of the President, doubting as to their 
reception, the feelings of the poor creatures overcame them ; and 
here the scene baffles my powers of description. 

" For two long hours, Mr. Lincoln had been shaking the hands 
of the ' sovereigns,' and had become excessively weary, and his 
grasp languid ; but his nerves rallied at the unwonted sight, and 
he welcomed the motley crowd with a heartiness that made them 
wild with exceeding joy. They laughed and wept, and wept and 
laughed, exclaiming through their blinding tears, ' God bless 
you!' 'God bless Abraham Lincoln!' 'God bress Massa Lin- 



420 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

kum ! ' Those who witnessed this scene will not soon forget it. 
For a long distance down the avenue, on my way home, 1 heard 
fast young men cursing the President for this act ; bat all the way 
the refrain rang in my ears, ' God bless Abraham Lincoln I ' " 

The telegram one day announced a great battle in progress. 
Mr. Lincoln paced the floor, pale and haggard, unable to eat, and 
fearfully apprehensive of a defeat. A lady said to him, " Wo 
can at least pray." — ''Yes," said he; and, taking his Bible, he 
hastened to his room. The prayer he offered was overheard ; and, 
in the intensity of entreaty and childlike faith, it was such as sel- 
dom ascends from human lips. Ere long, a telegram announced 
a Union victory. He came back to the room he had left, his face 
beaming with joy, and said, " Good news, good news ! The vic- 
tory is ours, and God is good ! " — " There is nothing like prayer," 
the lady responded. " Yes, there is," he replied : " praise, prayer, 
and praise." It is confidently asserted, that, during the war, Mr. 
Lincoln found an hour every day for prayer. 

There was a peculiarity in the character of this most remarka- 
ble man, a peculiarity conspicuous from the cradle to the grave, 
which no one yet has been successful in satisfactorily explaining. 
Take the following as an illustration: — 

A poor old man from Tennessee went to Washington to plead 
for the life of his son. He had no friends. Almost by chance, 
and after much delay, he succeeded in working his way to the 
President through the crowd of senators, governors, and generals, 
who were impatiently waiting for an audience. Mr. Lincoln 
looked over his papers, and told the man that he would give him 
his answer the next day. The anguish-stricken father looked up 
with swimming eyes, and said, " To-morrow may be too late 1 
My son is under sentence of death ! The decision ought to be 
made now ! " 

"Wait a bit," said the President, "and I will tell you a story. 
Col. Fisk, of Missouri, raised a regiment, and made every man 
agree that the colonel should do all the swearing of the regiment. 
One of his teamsters, John Todd, in driving a mule-team over a 
boggy road, completely lost his patience, and burst into a volley 
of oaths. The colonel called him to account. ' John,' said he, 
* did you not promise to let me do all the swearing of the regi- 
ment V — * Yes, I did, colonel,' he replied : ' but the fact was, the 
swearing had to be done then, or not at all j and you weren't there 
to do it.' " 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 421 

The President laughed at this story most heartily; and even 
the old man joined him in the laugh. He then, in a few words, 
wrote a pardon for the boy, and handed it to the father. 

Perhaps the most sublime and momentous moment of his life 
was when he presented to his cabinet his proclamation, which 
was to deliver from bondage nearly four millions of human beings 
then living, and to rescue from that doom uncounted millions yet 
unborn. He had prepared it without consultation with others, 
and no one knew the ol:>ject of the meeting. When all these 
grave and distinguished men, pressed in body, mind, and heart 
with the burden of the war, had met in the President's cabinet, 
Mr. Lincoln prepared himself to present the proclamation to them 
by taking down from the shelf "Artemas Ward his Book," and 
reading an entire chapter of his frivolous drollery, laughing in 
the mean time with an abandon of mirth, as if he had never 
cherished a serious thought. 

Then, with his whole tone and manner suddenly changed, 
with an expression of countenance and a modulation of voice 
which indicated, that, in every fibre of his soul, he appreciated the 
grandeur of the occasion, he read that immortal document, which, 
as he afterwards said, was the greatest event of the nineteenth 
century. 

In one of the darkest hours of the war, a member of his cabi- 
net called upon him to confer respecting some weighty matters. 
The President commenced relating a ludicrous anecdote. "Please, 
Mr. President," said the secretary remonstratingly, " I did not 
come here this morning to hear stories. It is too serious a time." 
The President paused for a moment, and then said, "Sit down, 
sir. I respect your feelings. You cannot be more anxious than 
I am constantly. And I say to you now, that, if it Avere not for 
this occasional vent, I should die ! " 

Mr. Lincoln's literary taste was of a high order. No man more 
correctly appreciated poetic beauty. The most delicate shades 
of thought, and the purest sentiments, were those for which his 
blind had an intuitive affinity. His memory was stored with 
beautiful fragments of verse, and these were invariably of the 
highest literary and moral excellence. 

" There are," said he on one occasion, " some quaint, queer 
verses, written, I think, by Oliver Wendell Holmes, entitled ' The 
Last Leaf,' one of which is to me inexpressibly touching." He 
then repeated, — 



422 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" The mossy marbles rest 
On the lips that he has pressed 

In their bloom ; 
And the names he loved to hear 
Have been carved for many a year 

On the tomb." 

He tLen added, " For pure pathos, in my judgment, there is 
nothing finer than these six lines iu the English language." On 
anothe? occasion he said, " There is a poem that has been a great 
favorite with me for years, to which my attention was first called, 
when a young man, by a friend, and which I afterwards saw, and 
cut from a newspaper, and carried it in my pocket, till, by fre- 
quent reading, I had it by heart." He then repeated eleven verses 
of a poem of which we here give the first and last stanzas : — 

" Oh ! why should the spirit of mortal be proud 1 
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud, 
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, 
He passeth from life to the rest of the grave. 

*Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath, 
Prom the blossom of health to the paleness of death, 
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud : 
Oh ! why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? " 

Mr. Lincoln was very remarkable for his fund of anecdote. He 
always had his little story with which to illustrate any point; and 
the illustration was often found to contain resistless argument. It 
has been said that his stories were sometimes coarse. Upon this 
point, Mr. Carpenter says, after six months of the most intimate 
daily acquaintance, — 

" Mr. Lincoln, I am convinced, has been greatly wronged in this 
respect. Every foul-mouthed man in the country gave currency 
to the slime and filth of his own imagination by attributing it 
to the President. It is but simple justice to his memory that I 
should state, that, during the entire period of my stay in Wash- 
ington, after witnessing his intercourse with nearly all classes of 
men, embracing governors, senators, and members of Congress, 
ofiScers of the army, and intimate friends, I cannot recollect to 
have heard him relate a circumstance to any one of them which 
would have been out of place uttered in a lady's drawing-room. 

"And this testimony is not unsupported by that of others, well 
entitled to consideration. Dr. Stone, his family physician, came 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN: 423 

in one day to see my studies. Sitting in front of that of the 
President, with whom he did not sympathize politically, he re- 
marked with much feeling, ' It is the province of a physician to 
probe deeply the interior lives of men ; and 1 affirm that Mr. Lin- 
coln is the purest-hearted man with whom I ever came in contact.' 
kjecretary Seward, who of the cabinet officers was probably the 
most intimate with the President, expressed the same sentiment 
in still stronger language. He once said to the Rev. Dr. Bellows, 
* Mr. Lincoln is the best man I ever knew.' " 

The tact which the President displayed in all his responses to 
the various kindnesses he received excited universal admiration. 
On such occasions, his awkwardness seemed graceful, and his plain 
face beautiful. As the President entered one of the rooms of the 
White House on an occasion when many visitors were present, a 
lady stepped forward playfully with a beautiful bunch of flowers, 
and said, •' Allow me, Mr. President, to present you with a 
bouquet." He took the flowers, for a moment looked admiringly 
on their beauty, and then, fixing his eyes upon the countenance of 
the lady, which was also radiant with loveliness, said, " Really, 
madam, if you give them to me, and they are mine, I think I can- 
not possibly make so good a use of them as to present them to 
you in return." 

Upon the betrothal of the Prince of Wales to the Princess 
Alexandrina, Queen Victoria sent a letter to each of the European 
sovereigns, and also to President Lincoln, announcing the fact. 
Lord Lyons, the British ambassador at Washington, who was an 
unmarried man, sought an audience with the President, that he 
might communicate this important intelligence. With much for- 
mality, he presented himself at the White House, accompanied by 
Secretary Seward. 

"May it please your Excellency," said the noble lord, "I hold 
in my hand an autograph-letter from my royal mistress. Queen 
Victoria, which I have been commanded to present to your 
Excellency. In it she informs your Excellency, that her son, his 
Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, i«< about to contract a 
matrimonial alliance with her Royal Highness the Princess Alex- 
andrina of Denmark." 

After continuing in this style of stately address for soma 
moments, he placed the letter in the hands of the President. Mi. 



424 LIVES OF THE PliESIDENTS. 

Lincoln took it, and, with a peculiar twinkle of the eye, simpl) 
responded, " Lord Lyons, go thou and do likewise." 

Mr. Carpenter, in narrating this incident, adds, " It is doubtful 
if an English ambassador was ever addressed in this manner 
before ; and it would be interesting to learn what success he met 
with in putting the reply in diplomatic language, when he reported 
it to her Majesty." 

In conv(3rsation at the White House, a gentleman referred to 
a body of water in Nebraska, which was called by an Indian name 
signifying weeping water. Mr. Lincoln instantly replied, " As 
laughing water, according to Longfellow, is Minnehaha, this, evi- 
dently, should be Minneboohoo." 

A gentleman who had called upon the President, in the course of 
conversation inquired of him how many men the rebels had in the 
field. Promptly and very decidedly he replied, " Twelve hundred 
thousand." The interrogator, in amazement, exclaimed, " Twelve 
hundred thousand I is it possible?" — " Yes, sir," the President 
replied ; " twelve hundred thousand : there is no doubt of it. You 
see, all of our generals, when they get whipped, say the enemy 
outnumbers them from three or five to one. I must believe them. 
We have four hundred thousand men in the field. Three times 
four make twelve. Don't you see it?" 

Some gentlemen from the West called one day, with bitter 
complaints against the Administration. The President, as was his 
wont, listened to them patiently, and then replied, — 

" Gentlemen, suppose all the property you were worth was in 
gold, and you had put it into the hands of Blondin to carry 
across the Niagara River on a rope, would you shake the cable, or 
keep shouting out to him, ' Blondin, stand up a little straighter ; 
Blondin, stoop a little more ; go a little faster ; lean a little more 
to the north ; lean a little more to the south ' ? No : you would 
hold your breath as well as your tongue, and keep your hands off 
until he was safe over. The Government are carrying an immense 
weight. Untold treasures are in their hands. They are doing 
the very besf, they can. Don't badger them. Keep silence, and 
we'll get you safe across." 

" I hope," said a clergyman to him one day, " that the Lord is 
on our side." — "I am not at all concerned about that," was Mr. 
Lincoln's reply ; " for I know that the Lord is always on the side 



ABU A HAM LINCOLN: ' 42{| 

of the rigid. But it is my constant anxiety and prayer that 7 and 
fJiis nation should be on the Lord's side." 

As the rebel confederacy was crumbling into ruins, some gen- 
tlemen asked Mr. Lincoln what he intended to do with Jeff. Davis. 
" There was a boy," said he, " in Springfield, who bought a coon, 
which, after the novelty wore oflF, became a great nuisance. He 
was one day leading him through the streets, and had his 
hands full to keep clear of the little vixen, who had torn his clothes 
half off of him. At length he sat down on the curbstone, com- 
pletely fagged out. A man, passing, was stopped by the lad's 
disconsolate appearance, and asked the matter. * Oh,' was 
the reply, 'the coon is such a trouble to me!' — 'Why don't 
you get rid of it, then ? ' said the gentleman. ' Hush ! ' said the 
boy. ' Don't you see that he is gnawing his rope off? I am going 
to let him do it ; and then I will go home, and tell the folks that he 
got aioay from me.' " 

On the Monday before his assassination, the President, on his 
return from Richmond, stopped at City Point. There were very 
extensive hospitals there, filled with sick and wounded soldiers. 
Mr. Lincoln told the head surgeon that he wished to visit all 
the hospitals, that he might shake hands with every soldier. The 
surgeon endeavored to dissuade him, saying that there were 
between five and six thousand patients in the hospitals, and that 
he would find it a severe tax upon his strength to visit all the 
wards. But Mr. Lincoln persisted, saying, — 

" I think that I am equal to the task. At any rate, I will try, 
and go as far as I can. I shall probably never see the boys again, 
and I want them to know that I appreciate what they have done 
for their country." 

The surgeon, finding that he could not dissuade Mr. Lincoln, 
began his rounds, accompanying the President from bed 'to bed. 
To every man he extended his hand, and spoke a few words of 
sympathy. As he passed along, welcomed by all with heartLlt 
cordiality, he came to a ward where there was a wounded rebel. 
The unhappy man raised himself upon his elbow in bed as the 
President approached, and, with tears running down his cheeks, 
said, " Mr. Lincoln, I have long wanted to see you to ask your for- 
giveness for ever raising my hand against the old flag." 

Tears filled the President's eyes. Warmly he shook the young 
man's hand, assuring him of his good will and heartfelt sympathy 
u 



426 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Several hours were occupied in the tour, when the President 
returned with the surgeon to his office. They had, however, but 
just taken their seats, when a messenger came, saying that one 
of the wards had been missed, and that " the boys " were very anx- 
ious to see the President. The surgeon, who was quite tired out, 
and who knew that Mr. Lincoln must be greatly exhausted, en- 
deavored to dissuade him from going back ; but Mr. Lincoln 
persisted, saying, "The boys will be so disappointed ! " He there- 
fore went with the messenger, and did not return until he ha<l 
visited every bed. 

Mr. Lincoln retained at the White House, to a very remarkable 
degree, the simple habits to which he had been accustomed in his 
home in Illinois. Mr. Holland relates the following characteristic 
anecdote : — 

"He delighted to see his familiar Western friends, and gave 
them always a cordial welcome. He met them on the old footing, 
and fell at once into the accustomed habits of talk and story-tell- 
ing. An old acquaintance, with his wife, visited Washington. 
Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln proposed to these friends to ride in the 
presidential carriage. It should be stated in advance, that the 
two men had probably never seen each other with gloves on in 
their lives, unless when they were used as protection from the 
cold. The question of each — Mr. Lincoln at the White House, 
and his friend at the hotel — was, whether he should wear gloves. 
Of course, the ladies urged gloves ; but Mr. Lincoln only put his 
in his pocket, to be used or not according to circumstances. 
When the presidential party arrived at the hotel to take in their 
friends, they found the gentleman, overcome by his wife's persua- 
sions, very handsomely gloved. The moment he took his seat, he 
began to draw oflF the clinging kids, while Mr. Lincoln began to 
draw his on. ' No, no, no ! ' protested his friend, tugging at his 
gloves, ' it is none of my doings. Put up your gloves, Mr. Lin- 
coln.' So the two old friends were on even and easy terms, and 
had their ride after their old fashion." 

The Hon. Thaddeus Stevens, on one occasion, called at the 
White House with an elderly lady who was in great trouble. 
Her son had been in the army, but for some offence had been 
court-martialled, and sentenced either to death, or imprisonment 
for a long term at hard labor. There were some extenuating cir- 
cumstances. The President gave the woman a long and attentive 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 42'. 

hearing, and then, turning to the representitive, said, "Do you 
think," Mr. Stevens, " that this is a case which will warrant ray in- 
terference ? " — " With my knowledge of the facts and parties," 
was the reply, " I should have no hesitation in granting a par- 
don." — " Then," replied Mr. Lincoln, " I wmII pardon him." Turn- 
ing to the table, he wrote the pardon, and handed it to the mother. 
Her gratitude so overcame her, that for a moment she was speech- 
less, taking the paper in silence ; but, as she was descending the 
• stairs with Mr. Stevens, she turned to him, and said very earnest- 
ly, " I knew it was all a copperhead lie." — " To what do you refer, 
madam?" Mr. Stevens inquired. ''Why, they told me," she re- 
plied, " that he was an ugly-looking man ; but he is the handsomest 
man I ever saw in my life." 

And surely there was beauty in that furrowed, care-worn, gen- 
tle face. A lady connected with the Christian Commission had 
several interviews with him, consulting him in reference to her 
humane duties. At the close of one of these interviews, Mr. Lin- 
coln said to her, with that child-like frankness and simplicity so 
characteristic of him, — 

" Madam, I have formed a high opinion of your Christian 
character ; and now, as we are alone, I have a mind to ask you 
to give me, in brief, your idea of what constitutes a true Chris- 
tian." 

She replied at some length, stating in substance, that, in her 
judgment, " it consisted of a conviction of one's own sinfulness 
and weakness, and personal need of a Saviour for strength and 
support; that views of mere doctrine might and would differ; but 
when one was really brought to feel his need of divine help, and 
to seek the aid of the Holy Spirit for strength and guidance, it 
was satisfactory evidence of his having been born again." 

With deep emotion, he replied, " If what you have told me is 
really a correct view of this great subject, I think that I can say 
with sincerity, that I hope that I am a Christian. I had lived, until 
my boy Willie died, without realizing fully these things. That 
blow overwhelmed me. It showed me my weakness as I had never 
felt it before ; and, if I can take what you have stated as a test, I 
think that I can safely say that I know something of that chang{* 
of which you speak : and I will further add, that it has beep "LiJ 
intention for some time, at a suitable opportunity, to make & pub« 
lie religious profession." 



428 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" Oh, how hard it is," said he one day, " to die, and not leave the 
world any better for one's little life in it ! " 

Pour years of civil war passed slowly and sadly away. There 
was another presidential election. Those who were opposed to 
Mr, Lincoln and the war rallied in great strength ; but Mr. Lin- 
coln was triumphantly re-elected, receiving two hundred and 
twelve out of two hundred and thirty-three electoral votes. The 
evening of his election, he said, in reference to this emphatic 
approval of his administration by the people, — 

" I am thapikful to God for this approval of the people; but 
while deeply grateful for this mark of their confidence in me, if I 
know my heart, my gratitude is free from any taint of personal 
triumph. I do not impugn the motives of any one opposed to me. 
It is no pleasure to me to triumph over any one ; but I give 
thanks to the Almighty for this evidence of the people's resolu- 
tion to stand by a free government and the rights of humanity." 

The last hope of the rebels was now gone. It was manifest 
beyond all controversy that the American people would not sub- 
mit to have their government broken up by traitors. Again he 
said, in response to a delegation which waited upon him with con- 
gratulations, speaking of the election, — 

" It has demonstrated that a people's government can sustain a 
national election in the midst of a great civil war. Until now, it 
has not been known to the world that this was a possibility. It 
shows also how strong and sound we still are. It shows also that 
we have more men now than when the war began. Gold is good 
in its place ; but living, brave, and patriotic men are better than 
gold." 

Every month now indicated that the Rebellion was drawing near 
to its close. The triumphs of Grant, Sherman, and Sheridan, were 
striking the hearts of the rebels with dismay, and inspiring all 
loyal hearts with hope. The National Government had, in the 
field, armies amounting to over seven hundred thousand men ; 
and six hundred and seventy vessels of Avar were afloat, carrying 
four thousand six hundred and ten guns. At President Lincoln's 
suggestion. Congress passed an act recommending to the States an 
amendment to the Constitution, prohibiting slavery. This event 
was generally hailed by the country with great satisfaction. This 
settled forever the efficacy of his proclamation of emancipation. 
Friends and foes now alike admitted the great ability of Abraham 
Lincoln. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN: 429 

An immense and enthusiastic crowd attended his second inau- 
guration. His address on the occasion, characteristic of the man, 
was one of the noblest utterances which ever fell from the lips of 
a ruler when entering upon office. In allusion to the parties 
arrayed against each other in the war, he said, — 

" Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God ; and each 
invokes his aid against the other. It may seem strange that any 
men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their 
bread from the sweat of other men's faces ; but let us judge not, 
that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered. 
That of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has 
his own purposes. ' Woe unto the world because of offences ! 
For it must needs be that oiffences come ; but woe to that man by 
whom the offence cometh ! ' 

" If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those 
offences, which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but 
which, having continued through his appointed time, he now wills 
to remove, and that he gives to both North and South this terri- 
ble war as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, 
shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attri- 
butes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to him? 
Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this might}' scourge 
of war may soon pass away. Yet if God wills that it continue 
until all the wealth piled by the bondmen's two hundred and 
fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop 
of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid with another drawn 
with the sword, — as was said three thousand years ago, so still 
it must be said, ' The judgments of the Lord are true and 
righteous altogether.' 

" With malice towards none, with charity for all, with firmness 
in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to 
finish the work we are in ; to bind up the nation's wounds ; to care 
for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and 
orphans; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and a 
lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations." 

On the morning of the 3d of April, 1865, it was announced by 
telegraph that the Union army had entered Richmond ; that Lee 
was in full retreat, pursued by Grant; and that President Lincoln 
had gone to the front. No pen can describe the joy with which 
these tidings were received. The war was over; slavery was 



430 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

dead; and the Union, cemented in freedom, was stronger than 
ever before. Contrary to his own estimate of himself, Mr. Lin- 
coln was one of the most courageous of men. He went directly 
into the rebel capital, which was then swarming with rebels. 
Without any guard but the sailors who had rowed him a mile up 
the river in a boat from the man-of-war in which he ascended the 
stream, he entered the thronged and tumultuous city, which was 
then enveloped in flames, the torch having been applied by the 
retreating foe. He was on foot, leading his little boy " Tad " by 
the hand. 

The rumor of his presence soon spread through the city. The 
blacks crowded around him, shouting, singing, laughing, praying, 
and Tv^ith all other demonstrations of the wildest joy. A poor 
woman "^^tood in the door-way of her hut, quivering with emotion, 
exclaim 'ng, as a flood of tears ran down her cheeks, " 1 thank you, 
dear Jesus, that I behold President Linkum." Others seemed 
convulsed with joy as they cried out, " Bless de Lord ! bless de 
Lord ! " At last the road became so choked with the multitude, 
that it was necessary to,send soldiers to clear the way. 

After visiting the headquarters of Gen. Weitzel, and taking a 
drive round the city, the President returned to City Point, and 
again soon after revisited Richmond with Mrs. Lincoln and Vice- 
President Johnson. On this occasion, he had an interview with 
some of the prominent citizens, by whom he afterwards felt that 
he had been deceived, and his confidence betrayed. From this 
trip he returned to Washington, to consecrate his energies to 
the reconstruction of the nation after these fearful shocks of 
war. 

Mr. Lincoln was a very frank man. He did nothing by guile. 
No one was left in doubt in respect to his views. The great 
question of reconstruction now engrossed every thinking mind. 
In a letter to Gen. Wads worth, he had written, — 

" You desire to know, in the event of our complete success in 
the field, the same being followed by loyal and cheerful submission 
on the part of the South, if universal amnesty should not be accoip- 
panied with universal sufi'rage. Since you know my privtra in- 
clination as to what terms should be granted to the South in the 
contingency mentioned, I will here add, that should our success 
thus be realized, followed by such desired results, I cannot see, 
if universal amnesty is granted, how, under the circumstances, ] 



ABRAHAM LINCOL iV. 431 

can avoid exacting, in return, universal suffrage, or at least suf- 
frage on the basis of intelligence and military service." 

We have spoken of the attempts which were made to assassi- 
nate President Lincolu before his inauguration. His life was con- 
stantly threatened. His friends urged him to practise caution ; 
but this was so contrary to his nature, that he could not be per- 
suaded to do so. He walked the streets of Washington unat- 
tended, and as freely as any other citizen. 

On the 14th of April, Gen. Grant was in the city; and the man- 
ager of Ford's Theatre invited the President and the General to 
witness on his boards the representation, that evening, of " Our 
American Cousin," To assist in drawing a crowd, it was announced 
in the play-bills that they would both be present. Gen. Grant 
left the city. 'President Lincoln, feeling, with his characteristic 
kindliness of heart, that it Avould be a disappointment if he should 
fail them, very reluctantly consented to go. With bis wife and 
two friends, he reached the theatre a little before nine o'clock ; and 
they took their seats in a private box reserved for them. The 
house was full in every part; and the whole audience rose as the 
President entered, and he was greeted with the greatest enthu- 
siasm. 

As the President, having taken his seat, was apparently listen- 
ing with great interest to the play, a play-actor by the name of 
John Wilkes Booth worked his way through the crowd, in the 
rear of the dress-circle, and, reaching the door of the box where 
the President was seated, presented a pistol within a few inches 
of his head, and fired a bullet into his brain. Mr. Lincoln, reclin- 
ing in his chair, instantly lost all consciousness, and did not move. 
The assassin, brandishing a dagger, leaped upon the stage, and 
shouting theatrically, " Sic semper tyrannis ! " rushed across it in 
the terrible confusion which ensued, mounted a fleet horse at the 
door, and escaped. 

The helpless form of the President, bleeding and unconscious, 
was borne across the street to a private house. A surgical exami- 
nation showed that the wound was mortal. It was a sad scene. 
Upon pillows drenched with blood lay the President, senseless and 
dying, his brains oozing from his wound. The leading men of 
the Government had speedily gathered, overwhelmed with grief. 
Staunton and Welles and Sumner and M'Culloch were there ; and 
tears flooded the eyes of these strong men, while audible sobs burst 



432 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



from their lips. Senator Sumner tenderly held the hand of the 
sufferer, and wept with uncontrollable emotion. At twenty-two 
minutes past seven o'clock in the morning, President Lincoln, 
without recovering consciousness, breathed his last. 




ASSASSIN ATTON OF AIUIAHAJI LINCOLN, 



It was a widespread conspiracy for the death of the leading oflS- 
cers of the Government and of the army. The President, Vice- 
President Jolnison, Secretary Seward. Gen, Grant, and others, 
were marked for destruction. When Booth was creef)ing around 
the dress-circle of the theatre with his pistol, another of the assas- 
sins, by the name of Powell, entered the sick-chamber of Secretary 
Seward, where the illustrious minister was helpless on a bed of 
suffering, his jaw being broken, and he being otherwise severely 
injured, by the accidental overturn of his carriage. The mur- 
derer, a man of herculean frame and strength, reached the cham- 
ber-door of his victim by asserting that he came with medicine 
from the physician. With the butt of his pistol he knocked down 
and stunned Mr. Frederic Seward, the son of the Secretary, who 
endeavored to arrest his entrance. Then leaping upon the bed, 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 43» 

With siuewy arm, three times he plunged his dagger into tho 
throat and neck of Mr. Seward. The wounded man, in the strug- 
gle, rolled from his bed upon the floor. An attendant sprang upon 
the assassin ; but the wretch with his dagger cut himself loose, 
and escaped into the street, after stabbing five persons who at- 
tempted to arrest him in his escape. A kind Providence, in 
various ways, sheltered the others who were marked for de- 
struction. 

It was not deemed safe to inform Mr. Seward, in his perilous 
condition, of the assassination of the President, as it was feared 
that the shock would be greater than he could bear. Sunday 
morning, however, he had his bed wheeled round, so that he 
could see the tops of the trees in the park opposite his chamber. 
His eye caught sight of the stars and stripes at half-mast over the 
building of the War Department. For a moment he gazed upon the 
flag in silence, and then, turning to his attendant, said, " The Presi- 
dent is dead ! " The attendant, much embarrassed, stammered a 
reply. " If he had been alive," continued the Secretary, " he 
would have been the first to call upon me. But he has not been 
here, nor has he sent to know how I am ; and there is the flag at 
half-mast ! " As he said this, tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Never before, in the history of the world, was a nation plunged 
into such deep grief by the death of its ruler. Abraham Lincoln 
had won the afiections of all patriot hearts. Strong men met in 
the streets, and wept in speechless anguish. It is not too much 
to say that a nation was in tears. As the awful tidings flew 
along the wires, funeral-bells were tolled in city and in country, 
flags everywhere were at half-mast, and groups gathered in 
silent consternation. It was Saturday morning when the murder 
was announced. On Sunday, all the churches were draped in 
mourning. The atrocious act was the legitimate result of the vile 
Rebellion, and was in character with its developed ferocity from 
the beginning to the end. 

The grief of the colored people was sublime in its universality 
and its intensity. A Northern gentleman, who was in Charles- 
ton, S. C, when the tidings of the assassination reached there, 
tv^rites, — 

" I never saw such sad faces or heard such heavy heart-beatings 
as here in Charleston the day the dreadful news came. The 
colored people, the native loyalists, were like children bereaved 

55 



434 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of an only and a loved parent. I saw one old woman going up 
the street wringing her hands, and saying aloud as she walked, 
looking straight before her, so absorbed in her grief that she 
noticed no one, — 

" ' Lord, Lord, Lord ! Massa Sam's dead ! Massa Sam's 
dead ! Lord ! Massa Sam's dead ! ' 

" ' Who's dead, aunty ? ' I asked her. 

" ' Massa Sam ! " she said, not looking at me. ' Lord, 
Lord ! Massa Sam's dead ! ' 

" ' Who's Massa Sam ? ' I asked. 

" ' Uncle Sam ! " she said. ' Lord, Lord ! ' 

" I was not quite sure that she meant the President, and I spoke 
again. ' Who's Massa Sam, aunty ? ' 

" ' Mr. Linkum,' she said, and resumed wringing her hands, and 
moaning in utter hopelessness of sorrow. The poor creature 
was too ignorant to comprehend any difference between the very 
unreal Uncle Sam and the actual President ; but her heart told 
her thai lie whom Heaven had sent in answer to her prayers was 
lying in a bloody grave, and that she and her race were left 
fatlierlessJ^ 

The body of the President was removed to the White House, 
and placed in a coffin almost buried in flowers, which the affection 
of a bereaved people supplied. It is estimated that fifty thousand 
persons went to the White House to take a last look of his loved 
face. The funeral solemnities were conducted by clergymen of 
the Presbyterian, Methodist, Episcopal, and Baptist churches. 
Dr. Gurley, in his noble tribute to the deceased, said, — 

" Probably no man, since the days of Washington, was ever so 
deeply and firmly embedded and enshrined in the hearts of the 
people as Abraham Lincoln. Nor was it a mistaken confidence 
and love. He deserved it, deserved it well, deserved it all. He 
merited it by his character, by his acts, and by the tenor and tone 
and spirit of his life." 

It may be truly said that the funeral-train extended fifteen 
hundred miles, — from Washington to Springfield, 111. Groups 
gathered as mourners at every station, bells were tolled, and 
bands of music breathed forth their plaintive requiems. In some 
places, the railway, for miles, was lined with a continuous group 
of men, women, and children, standing in silence, with uncovered 
heads and swimming eyes, as the solemn pageant swept by. It 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 43b 

would require a volume to describe the scenes which were wit- 
nessed in the various cities and villages through which the funeral 
procession passed. 

The train reached Springfield, 111., on the morning of the 3d 
of May. Bishop Simpson of the Methodist Church, a personal 
friend of the President, in his funeral address quoted the follow- 
ing words from one of the speeches of Mr. Lincoln in 1859 
Speaking of the slave-power, Mr. Lincoln said, — 

" Broken by it I, too, may be ; bow to it I never will. The 
probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to deter us 
from the support of a cause which I deem to be just; and it shall 
not deter me. If ever I feel the soul within me elevate and 
expand to those dimensions not wholly unworthy of the almighty 
Architect, it is when I contemplate the cause of my country, de 
sorted by all the world besides, and I standing up boldly and 
alone, and hurling defiance at her victorious oppressors. Here, 
without contemplating consequences, before high Heaven, and in 
tbe face of the world, I swear eternal fidelity to the just cause, as 
I deem it, of the land of my life, my liberty, and my love." 

England vied with America in expressions of respect and afiec- 
tion for our martyred President. The statement contained in " The 
London Spectator " will surely be the verdict of posterity, that 
Abraham Lincoln was " the best if not the ablest man then rul- 
ing over any country in the civilized world." The Queen of 
England, with her own hand, wrote a letter of condolence to Mrs. 
Lincoln. The sympathy which was manifested for us by the 
English, in this our great grief, so touched all loyal hearts, that 
Americans began to think that it was possible that England and 
America might yet again be united in the bonds of brotherly 
lore, burying all past grievances in oblivion. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 

Hi* Lowly Origin. — Struggles for Education. — Early Distinction. — Alderman, Mayor, 

State Representative, State Senator. — Speeches. — Member of Congress. — Governor. — 
Anecdote. — United-States Senator. — Opposition to Secession. — Speeches. — Graduat 
Change of Views. — Military Governor of Tennessee. — Address to the Colored People. — 
Vigorous Administration. — Vice-President. — Speeches. — President. — Political View*. 
— Agreement with the Republican Party. — Conflict with Congress. — His Policy. — 
Articles of Amendment. — Peter Cooper. — Future Prospects. 

The early life of Andrew Johnson contains but the record of 
poverty, destitution, and friendlessness. He was born the 29th of 




KKSIPKNCK, Of ANDHKAV .TOUNSOX. 



December, 1808, in Raleigh, the capital of North Carolina. His 
parents, belonging to the class of the "poor whites" of the South, 
were in such circumstances, that they could not confer even the 

436 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 437 

slightest advantages of education upon their child. "When Andrew 
was five years of age, his father accidentally lost his life while 
heroically endeavoring to save a friend from drowning. Until ten 
years of age, Andrew was a ragged boy about the streets, sup. 
ported by the labor of his mother, who obtained her living with 
her own hands. 

He then, having never attended a school one day, and being 
unable either to read or write, was apprenticed to a tailor in his 
native town. A benevolent gentleman of Raleigh was in the 
habit of going to the tailor's shop occasionally, and reading to the 
boys at work there. He often read from the speeches of distin- 
guished British statesmen. Andrew, who was endowed with a 
mind of more than ordinary native ability, became much interest- 
ed in these speeches : his ambition was roused, and he was inspired 
with a strong desire to learn to read. 

He accordingly applied himself to the alphabet, and, with the 
assistance of some of his fellow-workmen, learned his letters. He 
then called upon the gentleman to borrow the book of speeches. 
The owner, pleased with his zeal, not only gave him the book, but 
assisted him in learning to combine the letters into words. Under 
such difficulties he pressed onward laboriously, spending usually 
ten or twelve hours at work in the shop, and then robbing himself 
of rest and recreation to devote such time as he could to reading. 

In 1824, when sixteen years of age, having finished his appren- 
ticeship, he went to Laurens Court House, in South Carolina, and 
worked as a journeyman tailor for two years. It does not appear, 
that, during this time, he made much progress in his attempts to 
learn to read with correctness and fluency. It is said that he 
became quite interested in a girl of the village, and would have 
married her but for the objections which her parents made in con- 
sequence of his extreme youth. 

In 1826, he returned to Raleigh, and, taking his mother with 
him, removed to Greenville, a small town in East Tennessee, 
where he resumed his work as a journeyman tailor, and married a 
young woman of very estimable character, and who was so de- 
cidedly in advance of him in point of education, that she became 
his teacher in reading, writing, and arithmetic. She read to him 
as he plied the needle on the bench, and in the evenings instruct- 
ed him in other branches. Rapidly the young mechanic advanced 
in intelligence. His mental energy gave him influence among the 



438 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

workmen. Words came easily at his bidding, and he knew well 
how to use all the information he gained. His popularity with the 
working-classes was such, that, in 1828, he was chosen one of the 
aldermen in the little town in which he dwelt ; which position he 
held for two years, when, at the age of twenty-two, he was elected 
r.iayor. The position which he then occupied in public esteem 
may be inferred from the fact, that he was also appointed, by the 
county court, one of the trustees of Rhea Academy. 

He now began to take a lively interest in political affairs; identi- 
fying himself with the working-classes, to which he belonged. His 
zeal in their behalf, and the ever-increasing ability with which he 
espoused their cause, won their esteem, and secured for him, with 
great unanimity, their votes. In 1835, he was elected a member 
of the House of Representatives in Tennessee. He was then just 
twenty-seven years of age. He became a very active member of 
the legislature, gave his adhesion to the Democratic party, and 
in 1840 " stumped the State," advocating Martin Van Buren's 
claims to the presidency, in opposition to those of Gen. Harrison. 
In this campaign he acquired much readiness as a speaker, and 
extended and increased his reputation. 

In 1841, he was elected State senator from Hawkins and Greene 
Counties. The duties which devolved upon him he discharged 
with ability, and was universally esteemed as an earnest, honest 
man, heartily advocating whatever he thought to be right, and 
denouncing what he thought to be wrong. In 1843, he was 
elected a member of Congress, and, by successive elections, held 
tJiat important post for ten years. In 1853, he was elected Gov- 
ernor of Tennessee, and was re-elected in 1855. In all these re- 
sponsible positions, he discharged his duties with distinguished 
ability, and proved himself the warm friend of the working-classes. 

The following characteristic anecdote is related of him when 
Governor of Tennessee. With his own hands he cut and made 
a very handsome suit of clothes, and sent them as a present to 
Gov. M'Goffin of Kentucky, who had been his friend and com- 
panion in earlier days. The Kentucky governor had been a 
blacksmith by trade. He returned the compliment by forging 
upon the anvil, with his own hands, a very neat pair of shovel and 
tongs, which he sent to Gov. Johnson, with the wish that they 
would help to keep alive the flame of their old friendship. 

In 1857, Mr. Johnson was elected, by the Legislature of Ten^ 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 439 

nessee, United-States senator for the term of six years. lu 
Congress, both in the Senate and in the House, he adopted, in 
general, the Democratic policy. He opposed a protective tariff, 
and advocated the Homestead Bill. He belonged to the strict 
constructionist class of politicians, fearing lest the National Gov- 
ernment should have too much power; and he opposed any United- 
States bank, and all schemes of internal improvement by the Na- 
tional Government. He also went strongly with the South in its 
views of the incompetency of Congress to prevent the extension 
of slavery into the Territories. 

Years before, in 1845, he had warmly advocated the annexation 
of Texas; stating however, as a reason, that he thought this an- 
nexation would probably prove " to be the gateway out of which 
the sable sons of Africa are to pass from bondage to freedom, and 
become merged in a population congenial to themselves." In 
1850, he also earnestly supported the compromise measures, the 
two essential features of which were, that the white people of th<» 
Territories should be permitted to decide for themselves whether 
they would enslave the colored population or not, and that the 
free States of the North should return to the South any persons 
who should attempt to escape from slavery. 

Mr. Johnson was never ashamed of his lowly origin : on the 
contrary, he often took pride in avowing that he owed his dis- 
tinction to his own exertions. " Sir," said he on the floor of the 
Senate, "I do not forget that I am a mechanic. Neither do I 
forget that Adam was a tailor and sewed fig-leaves, and that our 
Saviour was the son of a carpenter." 

In the spring of 1858, Senator Hammond, of South Carolina 
made a speech in Congress, containing the following sentences: — 

" In all social systems, there must be a class to do the menial 
duties, to perform the drudgery oriife. Such a class you must 
have. It constitutes the very mudsill of society and of political 
government ; and you might as well attempt to build a house in 
the air as to build either the one or the other, except on this mud- 
sill. The man who lives by daily labor, and who has to put out 
his labor in the market, and take the best he can get for it ; in 
short, your whole class of manual laborers and operatives, as you 
call them, — are essentially slaves. The difference is, that our 
slaves are hired for life : yours are hired by the day. Our slaves 
are black ; yours are white : our slaves do not vote ; yours vote." 



440 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Senator Johnson, in his characteristic reply, said, ' Will it do 
to assume that the man who labors with liis hands is, a slave ? 
No, sir. I am a laborer with my hands, and I never considered 
myself a slave." 

Mr. Hammond, interrupting him, inquired, " Will the senator 
define a slave ? " 

Mr. Johnson replied, " What we understand to be a slave in 
the South is a person who is held to service during his or her 
natural life, subject to and under the control of a master, who haa 
the right to appropriate the products of his or her labor to his 
own use. If we were to follow out the idea that every operative 
and laborer is a slave, we should find a great many distinguished 
slaves since the world began. Socrates, who first conceived the 
idea of the immortality of the soul, pagan as he was, labored with 
his own hands ; yes, wielded the chisel and the mallet, giving 
polish and finish to the stone. He afterwards turned to be a 
fashioner and constructor of the mind. 

" Paul, the great expounder, himself was a tent-maker, and 
worked with his own hands. Was he a slave ? Archimedes, who 
declared, that, if he had a place on which to rest the fulcrum, with 
the power of his lever he could move the world, — was he a slave ? 
Adam, our great father and head, the lord of the world, was a 
tailor by trade. I wonder if he were a slave." 

Mr. Johnson was strongly opposed to secession, not however, 
at first, upon the ground that the slaveholders were not right in 
their claim that slavery should be nationalized : but, foreseeing the 
folly of an appeal to arms, he urged them to remain, and struggle 
for the attainment of their ends on the floor of Congress ; or, as 
he expressed it, to " fight for their constitutional rights on the 
battlements of the Constitution." He said, " We can more suc- 
cessfully resist Black Republicanism by remaining within the 
Union than by going out of it. As to Mr. Lincoln, he said on 
the 19th of December, 1861, "I voted against him; I spoke 
against him ; I spent my money to defeat him." 

There was, perhaps, no one in Congress who exposed the ab- 
surdity of the doctrine of secession in strains more eloquent and 
convincing to the popular mind. 

" Now let me ask," said he, " can any one believe, that, in the 
creation of this Government, its founders intended that it should 
have the power to acquire territory and form it into States, and 



ANDREW JOHNSON: 441 

then permit them to go out of the UnioQ ? Let us take a case. 
How long has it been since your armies were in Mexico, your 
brave men exposed to the diseases, the sufferings, incident to a 
campaign of that kind ; many of them falHng at the point of the 
bayonet, consigned to their long, narrow home, with no winding- 
sheet but their blankets saturated with their blood ? What did 
Mexico cost you ? One hundred and twenty million dollars. 
What did you pay for the country you acquired, besides ? Fif- 
teen million dollars. 

" Peace was made ; territory was acquired ; and, in a few 
years, California, from that territory, erected herself into a free 
and independent State. Under the provisions of the Constitution, 
we admitted her as a member of this confederacy. And now, 
after having expended one hundred and twenty mUhon dollars in 
the war ; after having lost many of our bravest and most gallant 
men ; after having paid fifteen million dollars to Mexico for the 
territory, and admitted it into the Union as a State, according to 
this modern doctrine, the National Govei"nment was just made to 
let them step in, and then to let them step out I Is it not absurd 
to say that California, on her own volition, without regard to the 
consideration paid for her, without regard to the policy which 
dictated her acquisition by the United States, can walk out, and 
bid you defiance ? 

" But we need not stop here. Let us go to Texas. Texas was 
engaged in a revolution with Mexico. She succeeded in the as- 
sertion and establishment of her independence. She applied for 
admission into this family of States. After she was in, she was 
oppressed by the debts of the war which had resulted in her 
separation from Mexico. She was harassed by Indians on her 
border. There was an extent of territory that lies north, if my 
memory serves me right, embracing what is now called the Terri- 
tory of New Mexico. Texas had it not in her-power to protect 
the citizens that were there. It was a dead limb, paralyzed, 
lifeless. 

" The Federal Government came along as a kind physician, 
saying, ' We will take this limb, vitalize it by giving protection 
to the people, and incorporating it into a territorial government ; 
and, in addition to that, we will give you ten million dollars, and 
you may retain your own public lands.' And the other States 
were taxed in common to pay this ten million dollars. Now, after 

56 



442 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

all this is done, is Texas to say, * I will walk out of this Union ' ? 
Were there no other parties to this compact? Did we take in 
California, did we take in Texas, just to benefit themselves? 

" Again : take the case of Louisiana. What did we pay for her 
in 1803 ? and for what was she wanted ? Was it just to let Louisi- 
ana into the Union ? Was it just for the benefit of that particular 
locality ? Was not the mighty West looked to ? Was it not to 
8-0 sure the free navigation of the Mississippi River, the mouth of 
which was then in the possession of France ? Yes : the naviga- 
tion of that river was wanted. Simply for Louisiana ? No, but 
for all the States. The United States paid fifteen million dol- 
lars, and France ceded the country to the United States. It re- 
mained in a territorial condition for a while, sustained and pro- 
tected by the* strong arm of the Federal Government. We ac- 
quired the territory and the navigation of the river; and the 
money was paid for the benefit of all the States, and not of Louisi- 
ana exclusively. 

"And now that this great valley is filled up; now that the navi- 
gation of the Mississippi is one hundred times more important 
than it was then; now, after the United States have paid the 
money, have acquired the title to Louisiana, and have incorpo- 
rated her into the confederacy, — it is proposed that she should 
go out of the Union ! 

"In 1815, when her shores were invaded ; when her city was 
about to be sacked ; when her booty and her beauty were about 
to fall a prey to British aggression, — the brave men of Tennessee 
and of Kentucky and of the surrounding States rushed into her 
borders and upon her shores, and, under the lead of her own gal- 
lant Jackson, drove the invading forces away. And now, after all 
this, after the money has been paid, after the free navigation of 
the river has been obtained, — not for the benefit of Louisiana 
alone, but for her in common with all the States, — Louisiana says 
to the other States, — 

" ' We will go out of this confederacy. We do not care if you 
did fight our battles ; we do not care if you did acquire the free 
navigation of this river from France : we will go out, and consti- 
tute ourselves an independent power, and bid defiance to the 
other States.' 

" It may be, that, at this moment, there is not a citizen in the 
State of Louisiana who would think of obstructing the free navi* 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 448 

gation of the river. But are not nations controlled by their inter- 
ests in varying circumstances ? And hereafter, when a conflict 
of interest arises, Louisiana might feel disposed to tax our citizens 
going down there. It is a power that I am not willing to concede 
to be exercised at the discretion of any authority outside of this 
Government. So sensitive have been the people of my State 
upon the free navigation of that river, that as far back as 1796, — 
now sixty-four years ago, — in their Bill of Rights, before they 
passed under the jurisdiction of the United States, they de- 
clared — 

"'That an equal participation of the free navigation of the 
Mississippi is one of the inherent rights of the citizens of this 
State. It cannot, therefore, be conceded to any prince, potentate, 
power, person or persons, whatever.' 

" This shows the estimate that people fixed on this stream sixty- 
four years ago ; and now we are told, that, if Louisiana does go 
out, it is not her intention to tax the people above. Who can tell 
what may be the intention of Louisiana hereafter ? Are we will- 
ing to place the rights, the travel, and the commerce of our citi- 
zens at the discretion of any power outside of this Government ? 
I will not. 

" How long is it since Florida lay on our coasts an annoyance 
to us ? And now she has got feverish about being an independ- 
ent and separate government, while she has not as many qualified 
voters as there are in one Congressional district of any other 
State. What condition did Florida occupy in 1811 ? She was in 
possession of Spain. What did the United States think about hav- 
ing adjacent territory outside of their jurisdiction ? Spain was 
inimical to the United States ; and, in view of the great principles 
of self-preservation, the Congress of the United States passed a 
resolution, declaring that, if Spain attempted to transfer Florida 
into the hands of any other power, the United States would take 
possession of it. There was the Territory lying upon our border, 
outside of the jurisdiction of the United States; and we declared, 
by an act of Congress, that no foreign power should possess it. 

" We went still farther, and appropriated one hundred thousand 
dollars, and authorized the President to enter, and take possession 
of it with the means placed in his hands. Afterwards we nego- 
tiated with Spain, and gave six million dollars for the Territory ; 
and we established a territorial government' for it. What next ? 



444 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

We undertook to drive out the Seminole Indians ; and we had a 
war, in which this Government lost more than in all the ether wars 
it was engaged in ; and we paid the sum of twenty-five million; 
dollars to get the Seminoles out of the swamps, so that the Ter 
ritory could be inhabited by white men. 

" But now that the Territory is paid for, the Indians are driven 
out, and twenty-tive million dollars have been expended, they want 
no longer the protection of this Government, but will go out with- 
out consulting the other States ; without reference to the remain- 
ing parties to the compact. Where will she go ? Will sho 
attach herself to Spain again ? Will she pass back under the juris- 
diction of the Seminoles? After having been nurtured and pro- 
tected and fostered by all these States, now, Avithout legard to 
them, is she to be allowed, at her own volition, to withdraw from 
the Union ? I say that she has no constitutional right to do it. 
When she does it, it is an act of aggression. If she succeeds, it 
will only be a successful revolution; if she does not succeed, she 
must take the penalties and terrors of the law. 

" I have referred to the acts of Congress for acquiring Florida 
as setting forth a principle. What is that principle? It is, that, 
from the geographical relations of this Territory to the United 
States, we authorized the President to expend a hundred thousand - 
dollars to get a foothold there, and especially to take possession 
of it if it were likely to pass to any foreign power." 

In such strains of eloquence and moral demonstration. Senator 
Johnson exposed the absurdity of the doctrine of secession. 

A's the secessionists grew more determined in their measures, 
Mr. Johnson grew more bold in his opposition. The slaveholders 
became exceedingly exasperated. He was denounced as a traitor 
to the South, and was threatened with assassination. But he was 
the last man to be intimidated by menaces. The North looked 
with admiration upon the moral courage he displayed, in thus 
contending, as it were single-handed, against almost every senator 
and representative of the South. In this admiration, they forgot 
that Mr. Johnson was, and ever had been, with the South in their 
claims. 

" I am opposed," he said, " to secession. I believe it no remedy 
for the evils complained of. Instead of acting with that division 
of my Southern friends who take ground for secession, I shall take 
other grounds, wliile I try to accomplish the same end. I think that 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 445 

this battle ought to be fought, not outside, but inside, of the 
Union." 

In consequence of this course, the wrath of the secessionists fell 
bitterly upon him. He was burned in effigy at Memphis ; and on 
his return to Tennessee in April, 1861, he was insulted repeatedly 
by mobs, and threatened with lynching. A price even was set 
upon his head. This did but inspire his zeal, and enable him with 
more eloquence to plead the Union cause. 

Kentucky was now invaded, and the rebels in large armies were 
ravaging Tennessee, plundering, burning, murdering. Every man 
who would not espouse their cause was in danger of being hung 
on the limb of the next tree. Never before was there more ferocity 
exhibited in a civilized land. A rebel band sacked his home, drove 
his sick wife and child into the streets, confiscated his slaves (for, 
with increasing wealth, he had become a slave-owner), and turned 
his house into a hospital and barracks for the soldiers. 

The heroism with which Mr, Johnson opposed the secessionists 
received a new impulse from these outrages; and the Union party 
at the North began to regard him as, in all points, in sympathy with 
them. Indeed, as he witnessed the violence of the proslavery- 
men, and saw clearly that the institution of slavery was at the 
foundation of all their treason, his speeches indicated a continually 
increasing sympathy with the views of the great Republican party 
which had elected Abraham Lincoln. He had already said, — 

" We may as well talk of things as they are ; for, if any thing can 
be treason, is not levying war upon the Government treason ? Is 
not the attempt to take the property of the Government, and to 
expel the soldiers therefrom, treason? Is not attempting to resist 
the collection of the revenue, attempting to exclude the mails, 
and driving the Federal courts from her borders, treason? What 
is it ? It is treason, and nothing but treason^ 

This speech, to which reason could make no reply, was met with 
hisses, reproaches, threats, and a shower of abuse. Growing still 
bolder, he exclaimed, — 

" Does it need any search to find those who are levying war, 
and giving aid and comfort to enemies against the United States? 
And this is treason. Treason ought to be punished. North and 
South ; and, if there are traitors, they should be entitled to traitors' 
reward." 

Again he said, speaking of the rebels, " Were I the President 



446 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of the United States, I would do as Thomas Jefferson did in 1806 
with Aaron Burr. I would have them arrested and tried for 
treason; and, if convicted, by the Eternal God they should suffer 
the penalty of the law at the hands of the executioner ! Sir, 
treason must be punished. Its enormity, and the extent and 
depth of the offence, must be made known." 

This was said in the Senate Chamber on the 2d of March, 1861. 
A few weeks after this, on the 19th of June, in a speech at Cincin- 
nati, he said, speaking in the same impassioned strain, " I repeat, 
this odious doctrine of secession should be crushed out, destroyed, 
and totally annihilated. No government can stand, no religious 
or moral or social organization can stand, where this doctrine is 
tolerated. It is disintegration, universal dissolution. Therefore 
I repeat, that this odious and abominable doctrine (you must 
pardon me for using a strong expression, I do not say it in a pro- 
fane sense), — but this doctrine I conceive to be hell-born and hell- 
bound, and one which will carry every thing in its train, unless it 
is arrested, and crushed out from our midst." 

Mr. Johnson was a Democrat of the Jacksonian school. Though 
he had strongly leaned to the doctrine of State sovereignty, and 
a strict construction of the Constitution, the assumptions of the 
secessionists were crowding him over into the ranks of those who 
would increase rather than diminish the power of the Central Gov- 
ernment. Thus upon this point he had abandoned the old Jeffer- 
sonian part}'-, and allied himself with the Federalists. 

In February, 1862, by the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson, 
the main body of the rebel army was driven out of Western and 
Middle Tennessee. President Lincoln, with the approval of the 
Senate, appointed Andrew Johnson Military Governor of the State. 
The appointment was received with enthusiasm by nearly all the 
loyal men in the Union. On the 12th of March, he reached Nash- 
ville, and commenced his administration with energy, which cheered 
the hearts of the long-suffering Unionists. 

The Mayor of Nashville and the City Council refused to take 
the oath of allegiance. He sent them to the penitentiary, and ap- 
pointed others in their place. The editor of " The Nashville Ban- 
ner," for uttering treasonable sentiments, was imprisoned, and his 
paper suppressed. All over the State, guerilla secessionists were 
maltreating the Unionists, plundering their homes, and driving 
their wives and children into the streets, as they had done with 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 447 

Mr. Johnson's family. The difficulty was met in the following 
proclamation : — 

" I, Andrew Johnson, do hereby proclaim, that, in every instance 
in which a Union man is arrested and maltreated by marauding 
bands, five or more rebels, from the most prominent in the imme- 
diate neighborhood, shall be arrested, imprisoned, and otherwise 
dealt with as the nature of the case may require ; and further, in 
all cases where the property of citizens, loyal to the Government 
of the United States, is taken or destroyed, full and ample remu- 
neration shall be made to them out of the property of such rebels 
in the vicinity as have sympathized with, and given aid, comfort, 
information, or encouragement to, the parties committing such 
depredations." 

This order was issued on the 9th of May. Early in June, 
another order appeared, declaring that all persons guilty of utter- 
ing disloyal sentiments, who should refuse to take the oath of alle- 
giance and give bonds in a thousand dollars for their future good 
behavior, should be sent South, and treated as spies, that is, hung, 
if again found within the Federal lines. Six clergymen boldly 
preached treason from their pulpits. As they persisted, after due 
warning, five were sent to prison, and the sixth paroled in conse- 
quence of sickness. 

The rebel armies again entered the State. Nashville became 
isolated, and was in a state of siege. There were many families 
in Nashville who were starving, their husbands and fathers hav- 
ing joined the rebels. Gov. Johnson assessed a tax upon the 
wealthy rebels in the vicinity for their support. Timid ones 
began to talk of the necessity of surrender. " I am no military 
man," he said ; " but any one who talks of surrendering, I will 
shoot." 

There was in the Union army in Tennessee a Methodist clergy- 
man, Col. Moody, who, in consequence of his patriotic zeal and 
chivalric bravery, accompanied at the same time with active piety 
in preaching and in prayer, had acquired the sobriquet of the 
"Fighting Parson." Col. Moody chanced to be in Washington, 
and related to President Lincoln the following anecdote respect- 
ing Andrew Johnson. Gen. Buell, whose reputation as a deter- 
mined patriot did not stand very high, being then in command of 
the Union forces in Tennessee, had evacuated his position in the 
southern portion of that State, and had fallen back upon Nashville, 



448 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

followed by a rebel army. He then proposed abandoning tho 
city. As we have mentioned, Gov. Johnson would not listen to 
this : on the contrary, he declared his determination to defend 
the city to the last extremity, and then to commit it to the flames, 
rather than surrender it to the rebels. 

He was so dissatisfied with Gen. Buell's course, that he wrote 
a letter to President Lincoln, urging his removal. Gen. Thomas 
was in cordial sympathy with Gov. Johnson, and was placed in 
command of troops in the city. Soon, however, he took a more 
important command ; and Gen. Negley took charge of the defence. 
The rebels made several attacks upon the outworks, but were gal- 
lantly repulsed. The city was now in a state of siege, provisions 
were very scarce, and the troops were on half-rations. 

Under these circumstances. Col. Moody had a chance inter- 
view with Gov. Johnson in Nashville. The governor was in his 
office, in a state of great excitement, walking the floor, in con- 
versation with two gentlemen. The gentlemen withdrew as the 
colonel entered, leaving him alone with the governor. After a 
moment's pause, the governor came up to him, evidently greatly 
agitated, and said, — 

" Moody, we are sold out. Buell is a traitor. He is going to 
evacuate the city ; and, in forty-eight hours, we shall be in the 
hands of the rebels." 

He then commenced rapidly pacing the floor again, wringing 
his hands, and chafing like a caged tiger, utterly unmindful of his 
friend's entreaties that he would become calm. Suddenly he 
stopped, and, turning to the colonel, said, " Moody, can you pray? " 

" That is my business, sir," the colonel replied, " as a minister 
of the gospel." 

" Well, Moody," said Gov. Johnson, " I wish you would pray ; " 
and, as the colonel kneeled, the governor impetuously threw him- 
self upon his Imees by his side. A Western Methodist clergy- 
man does not pray in low tones of voice, or with languid utter- 
ance. As with increasing fervor the colonel pleaded with God 
to interpose in their great peril, and save them, the governor 
threw one of his arms around his neck, and responded heartily, 
and with the deepest emotion. Closing the prayer with an em- 
phatic " Amen " from each, they arose. 

Gov. Johnson drew a long breath, seemed somewhat quieted, 
and said, " Moody, I feel better. Will you stand by me? " 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 449 

" Certainly I will," was the reply. The ^;ovemor paced the 
floor for a moment silently, and then said, Well, Moody, I can 
depend on you. You are one in a hundred tlousand." Again he 
resumed his rapid walk in silent thoughtfulu ess ; when suddenly 
he wheeled round, and said, — 

" Moody ! 1 don't want you to think that I have become a 
religious man because I asked you to pray. I am sorry to say it; 
but I am not, and never pretended to be, religious. No one 
knows this better than you. But, Moody, there is one thiLg 
about it : I c?o beheve in Almighty God ; and 1 believe, also, in the 
Bible ; and 1 say, D — n me if Nashville shall be surrendered ! " 

Mr. Lincoln narrated this anecdote to Mr. Carpenter, who, ad- 
mirably commenting upon it, says, " The incident was given with 
a thrilling effect, which mentally placed Johnson, for a time, along- 
side of Luther and Cromwell. Profanity or irreverence was lost 
sight of in the fervid utterance of a highly-wrought and great- 
souled determination, united with a rare exhibition of pathos and 
self-abnegation." 

It was not until October, 1862, that Gov. Johnson's femily suc- 
ceeded in reaching him, having passed through scenes of great 
hardship and peril. In September, Mr. Lincoln recommended an 
election for members of Congress in several districts in Tennes- 
see which had proved loyal. In December, Gov. Johnson 
issued a proclamation for elections in the ninth and tenth dis- 
tricts. He was, however, emphatically opposed to allowing an}- 
rebel sympathizers to vote on any of the acts necessary to' the 
restoration of the State. It was not enough in his view that the 
representative chosen should be loyal, but he must represent a 
loyal constituency. He closed his proclamation in these decisive 
words : — 

" No person will be considered an elector, qualified to vote, 
who, in addition to the other qualifications required by law, does 
not give satisfactory evidence, to the judges holding the election, 
of his loyalty to the Government of the United States." 

About the same time, he imposed a taxof /jixty thousand dollars 
upon the property of the secessionists for the support of the 
poor, the widows, and the orphans, who ha^ been made such by 
the war. The current of events had apparc itly swept him along 
into entire sympatliy with the Republican party. He was noc 
only opposed to se '.ebsion, but he waa opposed to slavery, its 



i50 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

originating cause, and to that senseless and haughty aristocrao*' 
which was founded in the oppression of the poor and the helpless. 
Although in the presidential canvass he had voted for John C. 
BreckiDridge, he now avowed himself the cordial supporter of the 
measures of President Lincoln's administration. 

In the autumn of 1863, he visited Washington to confer with 
the President in reference to the restoration of Tennessee to the 
Union. Our military operations had been so successful, that all 
organized bodies of rebels had been driven from the State. The 
people who had been so long under the tyrannic rule of bands of 
thieves and murderers were rejoiced at their deliverance. Nu- 
merous conventions were held, where Gov. Johnson addressed 
the people with that directness, and cogency of utterance, which 
he had so eminently at his command. 

" Tennessee," said he, " is not out of the Union, never has been, 
and never will be. The bonds of the Constitution and the Federal 
powers will always prevent that. This Government is perpetual. 
Provision is made for reforming the Government and amending 
the Constitution, and admitting States into the Union, not for 
letting them out. 

" Where are we now ? There is a rebellion. The rebel army 
is driven back. Here lies your State, — a sick man in his bed, 
emaciated and exhausted, paralyzed in all his powers, and unable 
to walk alone. The physician comes. The United States send 
an agent or a military governor, whichever you please to call him, 
to aid you in restoring your government. Whenever you desire 
in good faith to restore civil authority, you can do so ; and a 
proclamation for an election will be issued as speedily as it is 
practicable to hold one. One by one, all the agencies of your 
State government will be set in motion. A legislature will be 
elected. Judges will be appointed temporarily, until you can 
elect them at the polls. And so of sheriffs, county-court judges, 
justices, and other officers, until the way is fairly open for the 
people, and all the parts of civil government resume their ordi- 
nary functions. This is no nice, intricate, metaphysical question ; 
it is a plain, common-sense matter ; and there is nothing in the 
way but obstinacy." 

Gov. Johnson had now so thoroughly identified himself with 
the great Republican party, and had so warmly advocated its 
fundamental principles, that his name began to be spoken of as a 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 45l 

candidate for the vice-presidency at the approaching election 
Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine, now filled that office. He was a 
gentleman of high intellectual and moral worth, and discharged 
his duties to the full satisfaction of those who elected him. But, 
for obvious reasons, it was deemed very important, since Presi- 
dent Lincoln was from the West, to elect a Vice-President from 
some one of the Southern States. There was no other name 50 
prominent as that of Andrew Johnson. The North had learned to 
admire the man. His boldness, his popular eloquence, his avowed 
hostility to slavery, his all-embracing patriotism, and the sufferings 
he had endured in consequence of his devotion to his country's 
flag, ail endeared him to the North ; and, with enthusiasm, the Re- 
publican party rallied round him. 

At the National Convention assembled in Baltimore on the 6th 
of June, 1864, almost by acclamation he was nominated on the 
same ticket with Abraham Lincoln, who was renominated for the 
presidency. Most cordially this nomination was responded to by 
the people. When this intelligence reached Nashville, an im- 
mense mass-meeting was assembled to give it their ratification. 
Gov. Johnson was invited to address them. In the speech which 
he made on this occasion, he said, — 

" While society is in this disordered state, and we are seeking 
security, let us fix the foundations of the Government on princi- 
ples of eternal justice, which will endure for all time. There are 
those in our midst who are for perpetuating the institution of 
slavery. Let me say to you, Tennesseeans, and men fiom the 
Northern States, that slavery is dead. It was not murdered by 
me. I told you long ago what the result would be if you en 
deavored to go out of the Union to save slavery, — that tho 
result would be bloodshed, rapine, devastated fields, plundered 
villages and cities ; and therefore I urged you to remain in tho 
Union. In trying to save slavery, you killed it, and lost your own 
freedom. Your slavery is dead ; but I did not murder it. As 
Macbeth said to Banquo's bloody ghost, — 

' Thou canst not say I did it : 
Never shake thy gory locks at me.' 

Slavery is dead, and you must pardon me if I do not mourn 
over its dead body. You can bury it out of sight. In restoring 
the State, leave out that disturbing and dangerous element, and 



452 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

use only those parts of the machinery which will move in har- 
mony. 

" Now, in regard to emancipation, I want to say to the blacks, that 
liberty means liberty to work, and enjoy the fruits of your labor. 
Idleness is not freedom. I desire that all men shall have a fair 
start and an equal chance in the race of life ; and let him succeed 
who has the most merit. This, I think, is a principle of Heaven. 
I am for emancipation, for two reasons: first, because it is right 
iu itself; and, second, because, in the emancipation of the slaves, 
we break down an odious and dangerous aristocracy. I think that 
we are freeing more whites than blacks in Tennessee. I want to 
see slavery broken up ; and, when its barriers are thrown down, I 
want to see industrious, thrifty emigrants pouring in from all par.^a 
of the country." 

The utterance of such sentiments endeared Gov. Johnson very 
much to all liberty-loving hearts. In a similar strain he wrote, 
in his letter to the convention accepting the nomination, — 

" Before the Southern people assumed a belh'gerent attitude, 
and repeatedly since, I took occasion most frankly to declare 
the views I then entertained in relation to the wicked pur- 
poses of the Southern politicians. They have since undergoiie 
but little if any change. Time and subsequent events have 
rather confirmed than diminished my confidence in their correct- 
ness. 

" At the beginning of this great struggle, I entertained the 
same opinion of it that I do now. In my place in the Senate, I 
denounced it as treason, worthy the punishment of death, and 
warned the Government and the people of the impending danger. 
But my voice was not heard, or my counsel heeded, until it was 
too late to avert the storm. It still continued to gather over 
us, without molestation from the authorities at Washington, until 
at length it broke with all its fury upon the country ; and now, if 
we would save the Government from being overwhelmed by it, 
we must meet it in the true spirit of patriotism, and. bring 
traitors to the punishment due their crimes, and by force of arras 
crush out and subdue the last vestige of rebel authority in the 
State. 

" I felt then, as now, that the destruction of the Government 
was deliberately determined upon by wicked and designing coD' 
Bpirators, whose lives and fortunes were pledged to carry it oul ; 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 4o3 

and that no compromise short of an unconditional recognition of 
the independence of the Southern States could have been, or could 
now be, proposed, which they would accept. The clamor for 
' Southern rights,' as the rebel journals were pleased to designate 
their rallying-cry, was, not to secure their assumed rights in the 
Union and under the Constitution, but to disrupt the Government, 
and establish an independent organization, based upon slavery, 
which they could at all times control. 

" The separation of the Government has for years past been 
the cherished purpose of the Southern leaders. Baffled in 1832 
by the stern, patriotic heroism of Andrew Jackson, they sullenly 
acquiesced, only to mature their diabolical schemes, and await 
the recurrence of a more favorable opportunity to execute them. 
Then the pretext was the tariff; and Jackson, after foiling their 
schemes of nullification and disunion, with prophetic perspicacity 
warned the country against the renewal of their efforts to dis- 
member the Government. 

" In a letter dated May 1, 1833, to the Rev. A. J. Crawford, after 
demonstrating the heartless insincerity of the Southern nullifiers, he 
said, ' Therefore the tariff was only a pretext, and disunion and 
Southern Confederacy the real object. The next pretext will be 
the negro or slavery question.' Time has fully verified this pre- 
diction ; and we have now not only * the negro or slavery question ' 
as the pretext, but the real cause of the Rebellion ; and both must 
go down together. It is vain to attempt to reconstruct the Union 
with the distracting element of slavery in it. Experience has 
demonstrated its incompatibility with free and republican govein- 
raonts, and it would be unwise and unjust longer to continue it ar 
one of the institutions of our country. While it remained subor 
dinate to the Constitution and laws of the United States, I yieldea 
to it my support; but when it became rebellious, and attempted to 
rise above the Government and control its action, I threw my 
humble influence against it. 

"The authority of the Government is supreme, and will admit 
of no rivaby. No institution can rise above it, whether it be 
slavery or any other organized power. In our happy form of gov- 
ernment, all must be subordinate to the will of the people, when 
reflected through the Constitution, and laws made pursuant 
thereto, State or Federal. This great principle lies at the foun- 



454 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

dation of every government, and cannot be disregarded without 
vhe destruction of the Government itself. 

'' In accepting the nomination, I might here close ; but I oannot 
forego the opportunity of saying to my old friends of the Demo- 
cratic party joroper, with whom I have so long and pleasantly been 
associated, that the hour has now come when that great party 
can vindicate its devotion to true Democratic policy, and measures 
of expediency. The war is a war of great principles. It involves 
the supremacy and life of the Government itself. If the Rebellion 
triumph, free government, North and Sooth, fails. If, on the other 
hand, the Government is successful, — as I do not doubt that it 
will be, — its destiny is fixed, its basis is permanent and enduring, 
and its career of honor and glory is but just begun. In a great 
contest like this for the existence of free government, the path of 
duty is patriotism and principle. 

" This is not the hour for strife and division among ourselves. 
Such differences of opinion only encourage the enemy, prolong 
the war, and waste the country. Unity of action, and concentration 
of power, should be our watchword and rallyingcry. This accom- 
plished, the time will rapidly approach when the armies in the 
field — that great pov;er of the Rebellion — will be broken and 
crushed by our gallant officers and brave soldiers; and, ere long 
they will return to their homes and firesides, to resume the avoca- 
tions of peace, with the proud consciousness that they have aided 
in the noble work of re-establishing upon a surer and more perma- 
nent basis the great temple of American freedom." 

These are surely noble truths, nobly uttered. They met wiih 
a cordial response in every loyal heart. Every sentence elevated 
Andrew Johnson in the estimation of the American people. The 
names of Lincoln and Johnson were not only placed upon the 
same ticket, but at the fireside, and from the church, prayers of 
gratitude ascended to God that he had raised up a Southern man 
to co-operate with our own noble son of the West in the protection 
and redemption of our country. 

These feelings were increased to enthusiasm by an event which 
took place a few months after the date of this letter. 

On the 24th of October, 1864, Gov. Johnson addressed an im 
mense assemblage of the colored people of Nashville in a speech 
of extraordinary eloquence and power. We give it here, some- 
what abbreviated from the admirable report furnished by a cor- 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 455 

respondent of " The Cincinnati Gazette." Gov. Johnson spoke 
from the steps leading from Cedar Street to the State-house 
yard. The whole street was packed with the densest mass of 
human beings; the great proportion of them, men, women and 
children, being the dusky-hued sons and daughters of bondage. 
The State-house yard, and also the great stone wall which sepa- 
rated it from the street, were covered with the multitude. It 
was in the evening, and many torches threw a weird-like light 
over the scene. The excitement was so intense, that there was 
almost breathless silence. In tones which the sublimity of the 
occasion rendered deep and tremulous, the governor began : — 

" Colored men of Nashville, you have all heard the President's 
proclamation, by which he announced to the world that the slaves 
in a large portion of the seceded States were thenceforth a^d 
forever free. For certain reasons which seemed wise to the 
President, the benefits of that proclamation did not extend to you 
or to your native State. Many of you were consequently left in 
bondage. The taskmaster's scourge was not yet broken, and the 
fetters still galled your limbs. Gradually the iniquity has been 
passing away ; but the hour has come when the last vestiges of it 
must be removed. 

"Consequently, I too, standing here upon the steps of the Capi- 
tol, with the past history of the State to witness, the present 
condition to guide, and its future to encourage me, — I, Andrew 
Johnson, do hereby proclaim freedom, full, broad, and uncondition- 
al, to every man in Tennessee." 

It was one of those moments when the speaker seems inspired, 
and when his audience, catching the inspiration, rises to his level, 
and becomes one with him. Strangely as some of the words of 
this immortal utterance sounded to those uncultivated ears, not 
one of them was misunderstood. With breathless attention, these 
Bons of bondage hung upon each syllable. Each individual 
seemed carved in stone until the last word of the grand climax 
was reached, and then the scene which followed beggars all 
description. One simultaneous roar of approval and delight burst 
from three thousand throats. Flags, banners, torches, and trans- 
parencies were waved wildly over the throng, or flung aloft in 
the ecstasy of joy. Drums, fifes, and trumpets added to the uproar ; 
and the mighty tumult of this great mass of human beings, re- 
joicing for their race, woke up the slumbering echoes of the 



456 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Capitol, vibrated through the length and breadth of the city 
rolled over the sluggish waters of the Cumberland, and rang out 
far into the night beyond. 

There were in the vicinity of Nashville two slaveholders of 
immense wealth. Their princely estates spread over thousands 
of acres, and were tilled by hundreds of unpaid bondmen. The 
old feudal barons did not wield more despotic power than Cockrill 
and Harding wielded over their cabined slaves. Both of theso 
men were, of course, intense rebels. Their names were every- 
where prominent, and their great wealth gave them vast influence 
in the State. In allusion to them, Gov. Johnson continued : — 

" I am no agrarian. I wish to see secured to every man, rich 
or poor, the fruits of his honest industry, effort, or toil. I want 
each man to feel that what he has gained by his own skill or 
talent or exertion is rightfully his, and his alone : but if, through an 
iniquitous -system, a vast amount of wealth has been accumulated 
in the hands of one man, or a few men, then that result is wrong; 
and the sooner Ave can right it, the better for all concerned. It 
is wrong that Mack Cockrill and W. D, Harding, by means of 
forced and unpaid labor, should have monopolized so large a share 
of the lands and wealth of Tennessee ; and I say, that if their 
immense plantations were divided up, and parcelled out amongst 
a number of free, industrious, and honest formers, it would give 
more good citizens to the Commonwealth, increase the wages of 
our mechanics, enrich the markets of our city, enliven all the 
arteries of trade, improve society, and conduce to the greatness 
and glory of the State. 

"The representatives of this corrupt, and, if you will permit me 
almost to swear a little, this damnable aristocracy, taunt us with 
our desire to see justice done, and charge us with favoring negro 
equality. Of all living men, they should be the last to mouth that 
phrase; and, even when uttered in their hearing, it should cause 
their cheeks to tinge, and burn with shame. Negro equality 
indeed ! Why, pass any day along the sidewalk of High Street, 
where these aristocrats more particularly dwell, — these aristo 
crats, whose sons are now in the bands of guerillas and cut- 
throats who prowl and rob and murder around our city, — pass 
by their dwellings, I say, and you will see as many mulatto a^ 
negro children, the former bearing an unmistakable resemblance 
to their aristocratic owners. 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 457 

" Colored men of Tennessee, this, too, shall cease. Your wivea 
and daughters shall no longer be dragged into a concubinage, 
compared to which polygamy is a virtue, to satisfy the brutal 
lusts of slaveholders and overseers. Henceforth the sanctity ot 
God's law of marriage shall be respected in your persons, and 
the great State of Tennessee shall no more give her sanction t i 
your degradation and your shame." 

'' Thank God, thank God ! " came from the lips of a thousand 
women, who, in their own persons, had experienced the iniquity 
of the man-seller's code. " Thank God ! " fervently echoed the fa- 
thers, husbands, and brothers of these women. 

"And if the law protects you," he continued, "in the posses- 
sion of your wives and children, if the law shields those whom 
you hold dear from the unlawful grasp of lust, will you endeavor 
to be true to yourselves, and shun, as it were death itself, the 
path of lewdness, crime, and vice ? " 

" We will, we will ! " cried the assembled thousands ; and, join- 
ing in a sublime and tearful enthusiasm, another mighty shout 
went up to heaven. 

" Looking at this vast crowd," the governor continued, " and 
reflecting through what a storm of persecution and obloquy they 
are compelled to pass, I am almost induced to wish, that, as in the 
days of old, a Moses might arise, who should lead them safely to 
their promised land of freedom and happiness." 

"You are our Moses !" shouted several voices ; and the excln- 
mation was caught up and cheered until the Capitol rang again. 

" God," continued the governor, "no doubt has prepared some- 
where an instrument for the great work he designs to perform 
in belialf of this outraged people ; and, in due time, your leader 
will come forth, your Moses will be revealed to you." 

" We want no Moses but you ! " again shouted the crowd. 

"Well, then," Gov. Johnson replied, "humble and unworthy 
as I am, if no other better shall be found, I will indeed be your 
Moses, and lead you through the Red Sea of war and bondage 
to a fairer future of liberty and peace. I speak now as one 
who feels the world his country, and all who love equal rights 
his friends. I speak, too, as a citizen of Tennessee. I am here on 
my own soil ; and here I mean to stay, and fight this great battle 
of truth and justice to a triumphant end. Rebellion and slavery 
phall, by God's good help, no longer pollute our State. Loyal 

58 



458 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

men, whether white or black, shall alone control her destinies , 
and, when this strife in which we are all engaged is past, I trust, 
I know, we shall have a better state of things, and shall all rejoice 
that honest labor reaps the fruit of its own industry, and that 
every man has a fair chance in the race of life." 

It is impossible to describe the enthusiasm which followed these 
words. Joy beamed in every countenance. Tears and laughter 
followed each other in swift succession. The great throng moved 
and swayed back and forth in the intensity of emotion, and shout 
after shout rent the air. This was one of those scenes of moral 
sublimity which few on earth have ever been permitted to wit- 
ness. The speaker seemed inspired with very unusual power to 
meet the grandeur of the occasion and the theme. As he de- 
scended from the steps of the Capitol in this proudest, holiest 
hour of his life, the dense throng parted, as by magic, to let 
him through ; and, all that night long, his name was mingled with 
the curses and the execrations of the traitor and oppressor, 
and with the blessings of the oppressed and the poor. Gen. Sher- 
man was then sweeping through the very heart of the rebellious 
States, and Grant was thundering at the gates of Petersburg and 
Richmond. Tennessee had returned to her allegiance, revised her 
Constitution, and abolished slavery. 

Mr. Johnson has always been a little boastful of his lowly origin. 
Certainly it is to his credit, that, from a position so extremely 
obscure, he should have raised himself to stations of so much 
eminence. In a speech delivered at Nashville soon after his nomi- 
nation, he said, — 

'*In accepting the nomination, I shall stand on the principles I 
here enunciate, let tiie consequences for good or for evil be what 
they may. A distinguished Georgian told me in Washington, after 
the election of Mr. Lincoln, and just before his inauguration, that 
the people of Georgia would not consent to be governed by a man 
who had risen from the ranks. It was one of the principal objec- 
tions of the people of the South to Mr. Lincoln. What will they 
do now, when they have to take two rulers who have risen from 
the ranks? This aristocracy is antagonistic to the principles of 
free democratic government, and the time has come when it must 
give up the ghost. The time has come when this rebellious ele- 
ment of aristocracy must be punished. 

" The day when they could talk of their three or fcur thousand 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 409 

acres of land, tilled by their hundreds of negroes, is past ; and the 
hour for the division of these rich lands among the energetic and 
laboring masses is at hand. The field is to be thrown open ; and I 
now invite the energetic and industrious of the North to come 
and occupy it, and apply here the same skill and industry which 
has made the North so rich. I am for putting down the aristoc- 
racy, and dividing out their possessions among the worthier labor 
ers of any and all colors." 

The election which took place en the 14th of November, 1864, 
resulted in the choice of Lincoln and Johnson by one of the 
largest majorities ever given. On the 4th of March, 1865, Mr. 
Johnson was inaugurated Vice-President of the United States. 
The clouds of gloom which had so long overhung the land were 
beginning to break. Grant and Sherman were dealing the armies 
of Rebellion annihilating blows. On the 3d of April, there was 
a meeting in Washington to rejoice over the glad tidings of the 
evacuation of Petersburg and Richmond. In the address which 
Vice-President Johnson made at that meeting, he said, — 

"At the time that the traitors in the Senate of the United 
States plotted against the Government, and entered into a conspir- 
acy more foul, more execrable, and more odious, than that of Cati- 
line against the Romans, I happened to be a member of that body, 
and, as to loyalty, stood solitary and alone among the senators from 
the Southern States. I was then and there called upon to know 
what I would do with such traitors ; and I want to repeat my re- 
ply here. 

"I said, if we had an Andrew Jackson, he would hang them as 
high as Haman. But as he is no more, and sleeps in his grave, in 
his own beloved State, where traitors and treason have even in- 
sulted his tomb and the very earth that covers his remains, humble 
as I am, when you ask me what I would do, my reply is, I would 
arrest them ; I would try them ; I would convict them ; and I 
would hang them. 

" Since the world began, there has never been a rebellion of 
such gigantic proportions, so infamous in character, so diabolical 
in motive, so entirely disregardful of the laws of civilized war. It 
has introduced the most savage mode of warfare ever practised 
upon earth. 

" One word more, and I am done. It is this : I am in favor of 
leniency : but, in my opinion, evil-doers should be punished. Trea- 



i60 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

son is the highest crime known in the catalogue of crimes; and 
for him that is guilty of it, for him that is willing to lift his impious 
hand against the authority of the nation, I would say death is too 
easy a punishment. My notion is, that treason must be made odious, 
and traitors must be punished and impoverished, their social power 
broken: they must be made to feel the penalty of their crime. 
You, my friends, have traitors in your very midst, and treason 
needs rebuke and punishment here as well as elsewhere. It is 
not the men in the field who are the greatest traitors : it is the 
men who have encouraged them to imperil their lives, while they 
themselves have remained at home, expending their means and 
exerting all their power to overthrow the Government. Hence I 
say this, ' The halter to intelligent, influential traitors ! ' 

'* To the honest boy, to the deluded man, who has been deceived 
into the rebel ranks, I would extend leniency ; but the leaders I 
would hang. I hold, too, that Avealthy traitors should be made 
to remunerate those men who have sufi'ered as a consequence of 
their crime." 

The great rebel army under Gen. Lee surrendered on the 9th of 
April, 1865. Five days after this, on the 14th, while the bells 
of joy were ringing all over the nation at the utter overthrow 
of the Rebellion, the bullet of the assassin pierced the brain of 
President Lincoln. On the morning of the 15th, the fearful 
tidings quivered along the wires, creating almost universal con- 
sternation and grief, Abraham Lincoln died this morning at twenty- 
two minutes after seven o'clock I 

Immediately upon his death, Hon. James Speed, Attorney-Gen- 
eral of the United States, waited upo.. "^'ce-President Johnsot 
with the following official communication : — 

Washington City, April 15, 1865. 
Andrew Johnson, Vice-President of tlie United States. 

Sir, — Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, was 
shot by an assassin last evening, at Ford's Theatre, in this city, 
and died at the hour of twenty-two minutes after seven o'clock 
this morning. About the same time at which the President was 
shot, an assassin entered the sick-chamber of Hon. W. H. Seward, 
Secretary of State, and stabbed him in several places in the throat, 
neck, and face, severely, if not mortally, wounding him. Other 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 461 

members of the Secretary's family were dangerously wjunded by 
the assassin while making his escape. 

By the death of President Lincoln, the office of President has 
devolved, under the Constitution, upon you. The emergency of 
the Government demands that you should immediately qualify 
yourself according to the requirements of the Constitution, and 
enter upon the duties of President of the United States. If yon 
will please make known your pleasure, such arrangements as you 
deem proper will be made. 

Your obedient servants, 

HUGH M'CULLOCH, Secretary of the Treasury. 
EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War. 
GIDEON WELLES, Secretary of the Navy. 
WILLIAM DENNISON, Postmaster- General. 
J. P. USHER, Secretary of the Interior. 
JAMES SPEED, Attorney-General 

At ten o'clock, but little more than two and a half hours after the 
death of the President, a small but august assemblage met at the 
private apartments of Mr. Johnson, and Chief Justice Chase 
administered to him the oath of office. The ceremonies were 
brief, but invested with unusual solemnity, in consequence of the 
sad event which rendered them necessary. 

When iVIr. Johnson was inaugurated Vice-President, an unto- 
ward event occurred, which excited great pain and anxiety 
throughout the nation. It was an event which attracted such 
universal attention and such severity of comment at the time, that 
historic fidelity requires that it should be alluded to. Mr. Johnson 
had been very sick with typhoid-fever, and was in a state of 
extreme debility. He could not walk his chamber-floor without 
tottering. His physician judged it imprudent for him to attempt 
to make his appearance at the inauguration ; but his anxiety was 
80 great to attend ceremonies in which he was to assume such* 
momentous responsibilities, that, by the reluctant consent of the 
physician, he went, taking a stimulant to strengthen him for the 
hour. The stimulant was not a strong one ; but, in his weak and 
fevered state, it so overcame him, that in the Senate Chamber, 
befo:e the assembled dignitaries of our own and other lands, in 
his inaugural address, he uttered incoherent thoughts which 
mantled the cheek of the nation with a blush. 

A generous people promptly, gladly, accepted the explanation. 



462 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

The aflfair, for a moment so humiliating to national pride, was for 
given and forgotten. With confiding trust, Andrew Johnson was 
received as the worthy successor of Abraham Lincoln, the loved 
and the lamented. Seldom, if ever, has a President entered upon 
his office so deeply enshrined in the affections and confidence ol 
the Christian people all over our land as did President Johnson. 
Two days after he had assumed the duties of his responsible posi- 
tion, a delegation of citizens from Illinois, who Avere about to ac 
company the remains of President Lincoln to the burial-ground in 
Springfield, called upon President Johnson to pay him their re- 
spects. Gov. Oglesby, in behalf of the delegation, said, — 

" I take much pleasure in presenting to you this delegation of 
the citizens of Illinois, representing almost every portion of the 
State. We are drawn together by the mournful events of the 
past few days to give some feeble expression, by appropriate and 
respectful ceremonies, to the feelings we, in common with the 
whole nation, realize as pressing us to the earth. We thought it 
not inappropriate, before we should separate, even in this sad 
hour, to seek this interview with your Excellency, that while the 
bleeding heart is pouring out its mournful anguish over the death 
of our beloved late President, the idol of our State and the pride 
of our whole country, we may earnestly express to you, the living 
head of this nation, our deliberate, full, and abiding confidence in 
you, as the one who, in these dark hours, must bear upon youiself 
the mighty responsibility of maintaining, defending, and directing 
its affairs. 

" The record of your whole past life, familiar to all, the splen- 
dor of your recent gigantic efforts to stay the hand of treason 
and assassination, and restore the flag to the uttermost bounds of 
the Republic, assure that noble State which we represent, and, 
we believe, the people of the United States, that we may safel} 
trust our destinies in your hands. And to this end we come in 
the name of the State of Illinois, and, we confidently believe, fully 
and faithfully expressing the wishes of our people, to present and 
pledge to you the cordial, earnest, and unremitting purpose of our 
State to give your administration the strong support we have 
heretofore given to the administration of our lamented late Presi- 
dent, the policy of whom we have heretofore, do now, and shall 
continue to indorse." 

President Johnson, in his reply, said, " I have listened with pro 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 463 

found emotion to the kind words you have addi essed to me. The 
visit of this large delegation to speak to me, through you, sir, 
these words of encouragement, I had not anticipated. In the 
midst of the saddening circumstances which surround us, and the 
immense responsibility thrown upon me, an expression of the con- 
fidence of individuals, and still more of an influential body like 
that before me, representing a great commonwealth, cheers and 
strengthens my heavily-burdened mind. I am at a loss for words 
to respond. In an hour like this of deepest sorrow, were it pos- 
sible to embody in words the feelings of my bosom, I could not 
command my lips to utter them. Perhaps the best reply I could 
make, and the one most readily appropriate to your kind assurance 
of confidence, would be to receive them in silence. 

" The throbbings of my heart, since the sad catastrophe which 
has appalled us, cannot be reduced to words ; and oppressed as I 
am v/ith the new and great responsibility which has devolved 
upon mc, and saddened with grief, I can with difficulty respond to 
you at all. But I cannot permit such expressions of the confi- 
dence reposed in me by the people to pass without acknowledg- 
ment. Sprung from the people myself, every pulsation in the 
popular heart finds an immediate answer in my own. Your words 
of countenance and encouragement sank deep into my heart ; and, 
were I even a coward, I could not but gather from them strength 
to carry out my convictions of right. Thus feeling, I shall enter 
upon the discharge of my great duty firml}', steadfastly, if not 
with the signal ability exhibited by my predecessor, which is still 
fresh in our sorrowing minds. 

" In what I say on this occasion, I shall indulge in no petty 
spirit of anger, no feehng of revenge. But we have beheld a 
notable event in the history of mankind. In the midst of the 
American people, where every citizen is taught to obey law and 
observe the rules of Christian conduct, our Chief Magistrate, the 
beloved of all hearts, has been assassinated ; and when we trace 
this crime to its cause, when we remember the source whence 
the assassin drew his inspiration, and then look at the result, we 
stand yet more astounded at this most barbarous, most diabolical 
assassination. Such a crime as the murder of a great and good 
man, honored and revered, the beloved and the hope of the peo- 
ple, springs not alone from a solitary individual of ever so desper- 
ate wickedness. We can trace its cause through successive steps, 



464 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

without my enumerating them here, back to that source which is 
the spring of all our woes. 

" No one can say, that, if the perpetrator of this fiendish deed 
be arrested, he should not undergo the extreraest penalty the law 
knows for crime. None will say that mercy should interpose. 
But is he alone guilty ? Here, gentlemen, you perhaps expect 
me to present some indication of my future policy ? One thing 
I will say, Every era teaches its lesson. The times we live in 
are not without instruction. The American people must be 
taught, if they do not already feel, that treason is a crime, and 
must be punished ; that the Government will not always bear 
<with its enemies; that it is strong, not only to protect, but to 
punish. 

"When we turn to the criminal code, and examine the catalogue 
of crimes, we find there arson laid down as a crime, with its ap- 
propriate penalty ; we find there theft and robbery and murder 
given as crime ; and there, too, we find the last and highest of 
crimes, treason. ■ With other and inferior offences our people are 
familiar ; but, in our peaceful history, treason has been almost un- 
known. The people must understand that it is the blackest of 
crimes, and that it will be severely punished. I make this allu- 
sion, not to excite the already exasperated feelings of the public, 
but to point out the principles of public justice which should 
guide our action at this particular juncture, and which accord 
with sound public morals. Let it be engraven on every heart 
that treason is a crime, and that traitors shall suffer its pen- 
alty. 

" While we are appalled, overwhelmed, at the fall of one man in 
our midst by the hand of a traitor, shall we allow men, I care not 
by what weapons, to attempt the life of a State with impunity ? 
While we strain our minds to comprehend the enormity of this 
assassination, shall we allow the nation to be assassinated ? I 
speak in no spirit of unkindness. I do not harbor bitter or re- 
vengeful feelings towards any. I know that men love to have 
their actions spoken of in connection with acts of mercy ; and 
how easy it is to yield to this impulse ! But we must not forget 
that what may be mercy to the individual is cruelty to the State. 
In the exercise of mercy, there should be no doubt left that this 
high prerogative is not used to relieve a few at the expense of the 
many. Be assured that I shall never forget that I am not to con 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 465 

Bult my own feelings alone, but to give an account to the whole 
people. 

" In regard to my future course, I will now make no professions, 
no pledges. I have long labored for the amelioration and eleva- 
tion of the great mass of mankind. I believe that government 
was made for man, not man for government. This struggle of the 
people against the most gigantic rebellion the world ever saw has 
demonstrated that the attachment of the people to their Govern- 
ment is the strongest national defence human wisdom c&d devise. 
My past life, especially my course during the present unholy Re- 
bellion, is before you. I have no principles to retract. I have 
no professions to oflfer. I shall not attempt to anticipate the fu- 
ture. As events occur, and it becomes necessary for me to act, I 
shall dispose of each as it arises." 

A nation might well be proud of a ruler with so noble a record, 
cherishing such sentiments, and capable of expressing them with 
80 much force and eloquence. In conformity with these princi- 
ples, the very large majority of Congress, both the Senate and 
the House, began to adopt those measures of reconstruction 
through which the States which had been in rebellion could be 
restored to co-operation in the government of the Union. The 
rebels themselves declared, in the loudest and most defiant tones, 
that they were conquered only, not subdued ; that, in heart, they 
were as relentless and determined as ever ; and that, having failed 
upon the bloody field, they would renew the conflict, as of old, 
upon the floor of Congress. But the patriotic country felt safe 
in the assurance that we had a President in perfect harmony 
with the noblest Congress which had ever convened. But, to the 
surprise and almost the consternation of both Congress and the 
great mass of the people, it was found that the President, through 
some inexplicable influence, seemed to have changed his views, 
and was opposing vehemently, and with mortifying indecorum, 
those measures which Congress, with the general approval of the 
loyal population, would adopt, to protect the friends of the Gov- 
ernment from the vengeance of unrepentant rebels, and to shield 
our free institutions from renewed assaults. 

The change was one of the most sudden and marvellous on 
record. Almost in an hour, the rebels and their sympathizers, 
who had been burning President Johnson in effigy, and denoun- 
cing him in the strongest language of vituperation which contempt 

68 



466 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

and rage could coin, were shouting his praises, and rushing in 
from all quarters to greet him with their hosannas. The friends 
who elected him, who loved him, who leaned upon him for their 
support, were struck aghast. For a time, they were mute in grief 
Then came remonstrance and the angry strife. The bitterness of 
the old days of slavery domination, which we hoped had passed 
away forever, was revived. It seemed as though all our blood 
had been shed and our treasure expended in vain. The President 
urgently advocated measures of reconstruction, which, in the 
judgment of Congress, and of the vast majority of the people of 
the North, would place the Government again in the hands of 
those rebels and their sympathizers who had deluged our land in 
blood, and swept it with the flames of war, that they might over- 
throw our free institutions, and establish human bondage forever 
as the corner-stone of this republic. 

The great question upon which this strife arose was, " Shall 
the United-States Government extend its protection to all loyal 
men, without distinction of race, who, during the Rebellion, proved 
true to the national flag ? " President Johnson is understood to 
assume that we have no such right ; that we must leave the na- 
tion's defenders, black and white, in the Southern States, to the 
tender mercies of the rebels ; that the rebel States have never 
been out of the Union, have never forfeited their political rights ; 
and that if they now meet, and elect delegates to Congress, we 
are bound to receive those delegates upon their oath of loyalty; 
each house of Congress, of course, having the right to reject or 
expel any member who is personally obnoxious. 

This principle of reconstruction is revolting to the conscience 
of the great majority of Congress and of the loyal North. Mr. 
Peter Cooper, whose virtues have given him a national fkme, 
in an admirable letter of respectful yet earnest remonstrance to 
President Johnson, says, — 

" I, with thousands of others who labored to aid the Govern- 
ment in putting down the Rebellion, would have rejoiced if Con- 
gress could have found all the reports of the continued persecu- 
tion of Union men throughout the South to be groundless and 
false. 

" The whole Republican party would have rejoiced if Congress 
could have found it safe to admit the members offered from South- 
ern States at once to a full share in the Government. 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 467 

" This being my wish does not authorize me to denounce the 
majority in Congress, and accuse them of being radicals and trai« 
tors, ' hanging on the skirts of a Government which they are try- 
ing to destroy.' 

" It was said of old, the sin of ingratitude is worse than the sin 
of witchcraft. 

" To my mind, our nation must live in everlasting infamy if wo 
fail to secure a full measure of justice to an unfortunate race of 
men who were originally hunted down in their own country, and 
carried off and sold, like beasts, into an abject slavery, with all 
their posterity. 

" This enslaved race has the strongest possible claims for kind- 
ness, as well as justice, at the hands of the people and govern- 
ment of the whole country, and more especially from the people of 
the South. These unfortunate slaves have done a great portion 
of the labor that has fed and clothed the whites and blacks of the 
Southern country. 

" As true as the laborer is worthy of his hire, so true is it that 
we, as a nation, cannot withhold justice and equal rights from a 
race of men that has fought and bled and labored to defend and 
protect the Union of the States in the hour of our nation's great- 
est extremity. 

" The enemies of our country and government are now trying 
to persuade the community to believe that a war of races would 
result from giving the black man the same measure of justice and 
rights which the white men claim for themselves. This will be 
found to be a groundless fear. Our national danger will always 
result from unequal and partial laws. We cannot make laws 
which will oppress and keep in ignorance the poor, without bring- 
ing on ourselves and our country the just judgment of a righteous 
God, who will reward us as a nation according to our works. 

"I indulge the hope that 3'ou will see, before it is entirely too 
late, the terrible danger of taking council with Northern men in 
sympathy with the rebels who fought the Government with all 
the energy of desperation to accomplish the destruction of ^ur 
Government, instead of taking counsel with those friends ^ho 
elected you, — friends who have been and are as desirous as you 
can possibly be to secure the adoption of every measure calcu- 
lated to promote the substantial welfare of all parts of our com- 
mon country." 



468 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

As to the question whether the National Governmert has th« 
constitutional right to extend its protection to its defenders in the 
several States, much depends upon the theory which one adopts in 
reference to the war of the Rebellion. A contest of arms between 
an established and recognized government and a military force 
formed by a combination of individual citizens is civil war. The 
insurgents, when subdued or captured, are responsible individually 
for their acts, and are consequently amenable to the courts of law 
on charges of treason and rebelhon. 

A contest of arms between any government and a military force 
organized under the authority of any other government, exercising 
an independent sovereignty, is international war. The persons 
engaged in the military operations are not individually responsi- 
ble for their acts before courts of justice on criminal charges, 
but, when subdued or captured, can only be treated as prisoners 
of war. The victorious government is, however, entitled to exer- 
cise over the one that is subdued the rights of a conqueror as 
defined by the laws of war. 

The Constitution of the United States is of a twofold character. 
It establishes a government with sovereign powers in respect to 
certain specified interests, and, to this extent, is simply a consti- 
tution of government framed by a single people. It also at the 
same time includes a covenant of union made by a number of 
separate governments, each exercising its own independent sover- 
eignty in respect to certain other interests ; and to this extent the 
act is of the nature of Sileague or treaty, binding several sovereign- 
ties to the fulfilment of certain obligations towards each other. 

In case of hostilities arising among the parties of this instru- 
ment, the question whether, in a legal point of view, the conflict 
is to be regarded as a civil war or an international ivar, in respect 
to its character and effects, will depend upon the nature of it in 
relation to these two different aspects of the instruments ; that is, 
whether the insurgents act in an individual or in a corporate 
capacity. 

If it is a contest between the General Government and a force 
organized by individual citizens, it is an insurrection, or civil war. 
The insurgents may be so numerous and so well organized as to 
force the Government, during the contest, to grant them belliger- 
ent rights; but, when vanquished or captured, they are amenable 
to the courts of law on charges of rebellion or treason. 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 469 

If, on the other hand, it is admitted by the North to be, what 
the South claims it to be, a contest between the General Govern 
ment and a force organized by and acting in subordination to any 
one or more of the State governments, under proceedings regu- 
larly taken by the State authorities, in the manner prescribed by 
law, then it is of the nature of international war, in so far as that 
the governments which inaugurate it assume the responsibility 
of it, and those acting under their authority are personally re- 
leased. They can only be treated, when vanquished or captured, 
as prisoners of war. The victorious governments are entitled to 
exercise over the States that are vanquished the rights of con- 
querors, as regulated by the laws of war. 

There can be no question that the latter was the view univer- 
sally taken by those engaged in the Rebellion. They formed a 
government with its constitution and all its organized oflScers. 
They unfurled their flag, and conscripted their soldiers. They 
raised large armies, and issued letters of marque. They sent 
their ambassadors to knock at the doors of other governments for 
admission. In point of /act, they sundered all their relations with 
the National Government, and seditiously, illegally, unconstitu- 
tionally, but yet really, became an independent government, and 
maintained that independence during a struggle of four years' 
duration. They were so strong, that they compelled the National 
Government to recognize it as war, to exchange prisoners, and 
grant other belligerent rights. 

At length, they were conquered. Their army was crushed ; 
their piratic navy was annihilated. Their constitution and laws 
vanished. The>^ ^ag sank into the dust. Whatever may be their 
individual responsibility as rebels in organizing this hostile gov- 
ernment, there can be no question whatever that they did, in fact, 
sunder their relations with the National Government ; that they 
did, i/i /ad, assume and exercise the functions of sovereignty; and 
that, having thus been vanquished, the victors are entitled to 
exercise over them tlie rights of conquerors, as regulated by the 
laws of war. 

Within the territorial limits of this rebellious nation, there were 
.housands of patriotic white men who remained true to their 
country and its flag. In consequence, they were exposed to 
every conceivable outrage. Multitudes of them were scourged, 
shot, and hung. There were some millions of colored men who 



470 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

were patriotic to their hearts' core. The object of the Rebellion 
was to strengthen the chains which had so long held them in bond- 
age. The result of the Rebellion was to break those chains, and 
to let the oppressed go free. And now the unrepentant rebels 
are exceedingly exasperated against those Union white men, and 
those patriots of African descent whose sympathies were with the 
National Government ; and these rebels implore the Northern 
people to be magnanimous, and to interpose no obstacle to their 
wreaking their vengeance upon the Union people of the South. 

This is the great question of reconstruction which is now agi- 
tatins: the land. President Johnson is understood to advocate the 
restoration of the conquered States to the Union, without exact- 
ing from them any pledges whatever which will protect from vio- 
lence the friends of the Union within their borders. He is under- 
stood to assume that the Rebellion was merely a series of illegal 
acts of private individuals ; that the States in which the Rebel- 
lion took place, were, during the Rebellion, completely competent 
States of the United States as they were before the Rebellion^ 
and were bound by all the obligations which the Constitution im- 
posed, and entitled to all its privileges ; and that now, whenever 
representatives appear from such States and demand admission, 
there is but one question which we have any right to ask ; and 
that is, '' Have these States organized governments which are re- 
publican in form ? " It is said that each house of Congress can 
decide respecting the individual merits of the representative 
who claims admission to their body, and can receive or reject as 
it pleases ; but, as to the governments which they represent, 
" how they were formed, under what auspices they were formed, 
are inquiries with which Congress has no concern. The right of 
the people to form a government for themselves has never been 
questioned." 

It seems to be assumed, in the first place, that the States have 
never rebelled : individuals only have committed that crime. And 
then, in the second place, it is assumed that these individuals have 
Corfeited nothing by their treason ; that they are entitled to all the 
riglits and privileges which they ever enjoyed ; and that they can 
Bend their representatives to Congress, and demand admission for 
them, with just as much assurance as if they had ever remained 
loyal. This unconditional admission of the rebel States, without 
eecuring in advance the imperilled rights of the loyalists, both 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 471 

White and black, is regarded by the great mass of the Northern 
people as a crime which would justly expose the nation to the 
scorn of the world. 

In September, 1866, there was a large convention in Philadel- 
phia of loyal men from all the States which had been in rebellion. 
In their appeal to their fellow-citizens of the United States, they 
say,— 

^' The representatives of eight millions of American citizena 
appeal for protection and justice to their friends and brothers in 
the States that have been spared the cruelties of the Rebellion 
and the direct horrors of civil war. Here, on the spot where free- 
dom was proffered and pledged by the fathers of the Republic, we 
implore your help against a re-organized oppression, whose sole 
object is to remit the control of our destinies to the contrivers of 
the Rebellion after they have been vanquished in honorable bat- 
tle ; thus at once to punish us for our devotion to our country, 
and intrench themselves in the official fortifications of the Gov- 
ernment." 

In illustration of thg manner in which the loyal colored popula- 
tion could be oppressed, and, while nominally free, could have 
burdens imposed upon them more intolerable than they ever bore 
before, the following statements are made : — 

" The laws passed by some of our legislatures provide that all 
persons engaged in agricultural pursuits, as laborers, shall be 
required, du)-ing the first ten days of the month of January of 
each year, to make contracts for the ensuing year ; and, in case of 
failure, such laborer shall be arrested by the civil authorities, and 
hirec out ; and, however much the laborer may be dissatisfied, he 
daro )iot leave, under the penalty of being apprehended, and forced 
to labor upon the public works, without compensation, until he 
will consent to return to his employer. It is punished with fine 
and imprisonment to entice or persuade away, feed, harbor, or 
secrete, any such laborer. In this way they are compelled to con- 
tract within a limit of ten days, punished by legal enslavement for 
violating a simple contract, and prevented from obtaining shelter, 
food, or employment. By severest penalties, he has been made a 
serf in the name of freedom, and suffers all the evils of the insti- 
tution of slavery, without receiving that care which the master, 
from a sense of his own interest, would give to his bondsmen." 

Gov. Hamilton of Texas stated before an immense meeting 



472 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of the citizens of New Haven, Conn., on the evening of Sept. 15 
1866, that he could testify from his own personal knowledge, that 
in the single State of Texas, during the last six months, more than 
one thousand colored men had been brutally and wantonly mur- 
dered, — unoffending men, murdered simply because they were 
colored men and loyalists ; and that not one of their murderers 
had been arrested. He stated that no Union white man dared to 
attempt to protect them ; that, should he make the attempt, he 
would only expose himself to the same fate. 

Again : the convention describes the treatment to which the 
white loyal men are exposed. The massacre in New Orleans was 
as follows: "On the 30th of July, 1866, in pursuance of a proc- 
lamation of Rufus N. Howell, one of the judges of the Supreme 
Court of Louisiana, the convention of loyal men, which, under the 
protection of the United-States troops, met, and framed the or- 
ganic law under which the civil government of Louisiana was 
formed, and which adjourned subject to the call of the president, 
was again convened. The rebel press denounced the convention 
in the most abusive language, and resorted to every expedient 
to inflame the minds of the returned rebel soldiers against the 
convention and its adherents. Public meetings were held, and 
incendiary speeches made. The mayor of the city declared his 
intention to disperse the convention if it should attempt to meet 
within the limits of New Orleans. 

" At twelve o'clock of the night before the meeting of the con- 
vention, the police were assembled at the station-houses, and each 
one was armed with a large navy revolver. The convention met 
at twelve o'clock, at noon, in the Convention Hall, at the corner 
of Dryades and Canal Streets. A large number of Union mon 
were assembled — peaceful, unarmed citizens — in front of the 
building. At one o'clock, at a signal of the ringing of the bells, 
the police, joined by hundreds of armed rebel soldiers in citizens' 
dress, attacked, without the slightest provocation, the people in 
front of the building. With unrelenting butchery, these men of 
bloody hands and hearts shot down the loyalists. The street was 
soon cleared. There were left but pools of blood, and the man- 
gled bodies of the slain. 

They then made a dash into the hall of the convention. Paris, 
during the Reign of Terror, never witnessed a scene more dread- 
fell. The members of the convention were unarmed, and utterly 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



4T6 



defenceless. At the suggestiou of their chaplaiu, the Rev. Mr. 
Horton, they quietly took their seats, and thus awaited the storm. 
Without any attempt at arrest, without encountering any act or 
word of provocation, these police-officers, with their Union-hating 
band of rebel soldiers, opened fire with their revolvers upon their 
helpless victims. Volley succeeded volley. No mercy was 
shown. White handkerchiefs were waved, as flags of truce, in 
vain. A deaf ear was turned to every plea. The work of butch- 
ery was continued, until every Union man in the room was either 
killed or wounded, excepting the very few who almost miracu- 
lously escaped. 




RIOT AT NKW ORLKANS. — SCENE IX JIECHANIfS' HALL, 



While this scene was being enacted in the hall, bands of mur- 
derers were equally active in the streets, for several squares 
around the building. Every colored man and every known Union 
man was shot down. The bodies of the slain were mutilated in 
the most brutal way. In the report which the Southern Union 
men make of this almost unparalleled outrage, they say, — 

" All the circumstances connected with this tragic event, — the 

60 



474 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

expressed intention of the mayor to disperse the convention, the 
withdrawal of the police from their beats in the city, the arming 
of them with revolvers, the signal given at one o'clock, and the 
prompt arrival of all the police of the city, including six or seven 
hundred special policemen sworn in for the occasion, the presence 
of the mayor during the tumult, the deception practised by the 
iieutenant-governor to keep troops out of the city, — all clearly 
prove that the bloody tragedy was, as Gen. Sheridan states, a 
' premeditated massacre.' 

" And from the brutal manner in which over four hundred 
Union men were killed or wounded, from the fact that not one 
single policeman or participant in the murderous affair has been 
arrested, from the fact that the same men whose hands are yet 
red with the blood of the patriot soldiers of the Republic, and 
crimsoned anew in that of the martyrs of the 30th of July, are 
still retained in office and power in that city, it is clear that there 
is no security for the lives, the liberty, or the property, of loyal 
citizens. 

" It is a part of the history of this massacre, that indictments 
were found by the grand jury of the parish, composed of ex-rebel 
soldiers and their sympathizers, against the survivors of the con- 
vention, for having disturbed the peace of the community ; and 
that, to-day, many of them are under heavy bonds to appear, and 
answer the charge. Nor did this seem to satisfy the judge of the 
criminal court : for the grand jury was brought before him on the 
following day, and instructed to find bills of indictment against 
the members of the convention and s^ect'dtors, charging them wilh 
murder, giving the principle in law, and applying it in this case, 
that whosoever is engaged in an unlawful proceeding, from which 
death ensues to a human being, is guilt}'' of murder ; and alleging, 
that as the convention had no right to meet, and the police had 
killed many men on the day of its meeting, the survivors were 
therefore guilty of murder. 

" But why continue," these Southern loyalists add, '' ihe recital 
of this horrible record? We have before us evidences from 
every portion of the South, proving the extent and the increasing 
violence of the spirit of intolerance and persecution above set 
forth. This committee is in possession of information that Union 
men dare not attend this convention, for fear of violence upon 
their return. Gentlemen of this convention have, since their ar- 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 475 

rival in this city, received notices warning them not to return 
home. We have omitted the relation of acts of ferocity and 
barbarism too horrible to relate. We submit to the impartial 
judgment of the American people, if these State governments, 
thus ruled by a disunion oligarchy, and based on the pohtical dis' 
franchisement of three millions of colored citizens, and the social 
disfranchisement of the entire loyal white citizens, are republican 
in form. Of doubtful legal existence, the}' are undoubtedly 
despotic, and despotic in the interests of treason, as we of the 
South know but too well. 

*' We affirm that the loyalists of the South look to Congress, 
with affectionate gratitude and confidence, as the only means to 
save us from persecution, exile, and death itself. And we also 
declare that there can be no security for us and our children, 
there can be no safety for the country, against the fell spirit of 
slavery, now organized in the form of serfdom, unless the Govern- 
ment, by national and appropriate legislation, enforced by national 
authority, shall confer on every citizen in the States we represent 
the American birthright of impartial suffrage, and equality before 
the law. 

" This is the one all-sufficient remedy. This is our great need 
and pressing necessity. This is the only policy which will destroy 
sectionalism, by bringing into efiective power a preponderating 
force on the side of loyalty. It will lead to an enduring pacifica- 
tion, because based on the eternal principles of justice. It is a 
policy which finally will regenerate the South itself, because it 
will introduce and establish there a divine principle of moral poli- 
tics, which, under God's blessing, will, in elevating humanity, 
absorb and purify the unchristian hate and selfish passions of 
men." 

According to the Constitution, if two-thirds of the members of 
each house of Congress agree upon any amendments, those amend- 
ments shall be submitted to the approval of the several States. If 
three-fourths of these accept them, they become a part of the 
Constitution. The views of a large majority in both houses of 
Congress were not in harmony with those of the President. Con- 
gress took the ground, that, before the rebellious States should be 
allowed to assume their former privileges in the councils of the 
nation, certain guaranties should be exacted of them as a protec- 
tion for the Union men of the South, and to protect the nation 
from the repetition of so terrible a wrong. 



476 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

With this view, they presented to the States Terms of Recoru 
struciion, to be adopted as constitutional amendments. Whatever 
may be thought of the policy or the impolicy of these terms, their 
wonderful leniency no man can deny. The Rebellion was a terri- 
ble fact, as terrible as earth has ever known. It cost thousands 
of millions of money, and hundreds of thousands of lives, and an 
amount of miserj'^, of life-long destitution and woe, which never 
can be gauged. A greater crime was never perpetrated. Its 
responsibility lies somewhere. 

If we regard it as merely a combination of individual citizens, 
then these insurgents merit severe punishment on the charge of 
treason and rebellion. If we regard it as an international war 
between the United-States Government and independent Confed- 
erate States, then is the victorious Government entitled to the 
rights of a conqueror as defined by the laws of war. Prussia an- 
nihilates the governments of the provinces and the kingdoms she 
has conquered, and compels them to pay the expenses of the war ; 
and not a cabinet in Europe utters a word of remonstrance. 

With magnanimity never before in the history of the world man- 
ifested towards a vanquished enemy, the National Government 
calls for no punishment in the dungeon or on the scaffold, for no 
conscription or exile, for no political or personal servitude de- 
priving States or individuals of any of their rights : it simply 
requires a few easy terms as a slight security against another war. 

These terms are as follows : — 

Besctved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United SfatfS of America in Con- 
gress assembled (two thirds of both bouses concurring), That the following article be proposed 
to the legislatures of the several States as an ameudmeut to the Constitution of the United 
States; which, when ratified by three-fourths of said legislatures, shall be valid as part of the 
Constitution; namely: — 

Art. 1, Sect. 1. — All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the 
jurisdiction thereof, arc citizens of the United States and the States wherein they reside. No 
State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens 
of the United States ; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or happiness, with- 
out due process of law, nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of th« 
laws. 

Sect. 2. — Representatives shall be apportioned among the several States according to their 
respective numbers, counting the whole number of persons, excluding Indians not taxed. But 
whenever the right to vote at any election for the choice of electors for President and Vice- 
President, representatives in Congress, executive and judicial officers, or members of the legis- 
lature thereof, is denied to any of the male inhabitants of such State, being twenty-one years of 
age, and citizens of the United States, or in any way abridged, except for participation in re- 
bellion or other crime, the basis of representation therein shall be reduced in the proportion 
which the number of such male citizens shall bear to the whole number of male citizens twenty- 
one years of age in such State. 

Sect. 3. — That no person shall be a senator or representative in Congress, or elector of Pres- 
ident and Vice-President or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States, or under 
any State, who, having previously taken an oath as a member of Congress, or as an officer of the 
United States, or as a member of any State legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer o< 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 47'< 

any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection 
or rebellion against the same, or given aid and comfort to the enemies thereof. But Congresi 
may, by a vote of two-thirds of each house, remove such disabilities. 

Sect. 4. — The validity of the public debt of the United States authorized by law, including 
debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suj pressing insurrection or 
rebellion, shall not be questioned. But neither the United States nor any State shall assume or 
pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States, 
or any claim for the loss or emancipation of any slave ; but all such debts, obligations, and 
claims, shall be held illegal and void. 

Sect. 5. — The Congress shall have power to enforce by appropriate legislation the proTisions 
of this article. 

This amendment allows each State to decide who of its citizens 
shall enjoy the right to vote ; but it declares that those who are 
not allowed to vote shall not be counted in the basis of repre- 
sentation. If any State chooses to limit the elective franchise to 
a favored few, it can do so ; but that privileged few are not to 
have their power augmented by representing large bodies of cit 
izens who are permitted no voice in the selection of their repre- 
sentation. But for this provision, a rebel voter in South Carolina 
would represent a power in national affairs equal to any two loyal 
voters in New York. With slavery re-instituted under the guise 
of serfdom, and with their representation in Congress greatly in- 
creased, by counting in their basis of representation each serf as a 
man, the rebel States would have gained by the conflict in politi- 
cal power. 

President Johnson opposed these terms of reconstruction. Con- 
gress advocated them. They were cordially approved by an 
immense majority of the people of the United States. A conflict 
arose between the President and Congress, which agitated the 
nation as it has, perhaps, never been agitated before in time of 
peace. The President availed himself not only of all his oonstitu- 
tional powers, but, as Congress averred, he usurped unconstitu- 
tional powers, in his endeavors to thwart the measures which the 
nation, through its representatives, was endeavoring to enforce. 
In the progress of this strife, a law was passed by Congress, on the 
2d of March, 1867, entitled " The Tenure of Office Act ; " by which 
it was enacted that all civil officers duly qualified by appointment 
by the President, with the advice and consent of the Senate, 
shall be entitled to hold such office until a successor shall have 
been in like manner appointed and qualified. 

The President, who was anxious to remove Mr. Stanton from 
the office of Secretary of War, and place some one in his position 
who would act in harmony with his own views, refused to respect 
this law, declaring it to be unconstitutional. He assumed that he 



478 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

had a right to judge for himself whether or not the laws enacted 
by Congress were in accordance with the Constitution; and that 
if, in his judgment, they were not so, he had a right to refuse to 
execute them. The distinctly-defined issue which consequently 
arose was, may the President annul such laws of the United Slates, 
as, in his Judgment, he may deem to he unconstitutional? 

The President had a right to veto a bill, Avhich, for any reason, 
he disapproved ; but a bill thus returned could pass to a law by 
a two-thirds vote, notwithstanding the veto. And again: should 
the President refuse to return a bill, and retain it for ten days, it 
then became a law without his signature. It was admitted that 
the President was not bound to execute an unconstitutional law. 
But the question of its constitutionality was to be decided, not by 
the private judgment of the President, but by the solemn decision 
of the Supreme Court of the United States. 

The President, in contravention of the Tenure of Office Act, 
issued an order removing Sec. Stanton from his office, to which 
he had been appointed by President Lincoln, and substituting in 
his place Gen. Lorenzo Thomas. Sec. Stanton, acting in harmony 
with the advice of Congress, refused to surrender the post which 
it was endeavored thus illegally to wrest from him. The Presi- 
dent, by threats, endeavored to force him to yield. This brought 
matters to such a crisis, that the impeachment of the President 
was decided upon. When the President urged the plea, that he 
violated the law that he might thus bring it before the Supreme 
Court to test its constitutionality, the reply was, that the Presi- 
dent had taken an oath to execute the laws ; that he could violate 
this oath only at his peril, and that peril was, to be impeached. 

The nation, in general, was in sympathy with Congress. The 
course which the President had pursued had created intense and 
wide-spread exasperation. Those who were in sympathy with the 
Rebellion applauded him. The loyal community all over the land 
was incensed. In addition to those articles of impeachment 
.which accused the President of high crimes and misdemeanors in 
violating the laws, another article was introduced, charging him 
with attempting to bring into ridicule and contempt the Congress 
of the United States, and to excite against it the odium of the 
people. In substantiation of this charge, the following extracts 
were produced from speeches which he had made on several oc- 
casions. To a committee of citizens who called upon him in 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 479 

Wasliington, on the 18th of August, 1866, he said, in view of the 
opposition of Congress to his mode of reconstructing the rebel 
States, — 

" We have witnessed in one department of the Government 
every endeavor to prevent the restoration of peace, harmony, and 
union. We have seen hanging upon the verge of the Govern- 
ment, as it were, a body called, or which assumes to be, the Con- 
gress of the United States ; while, in fact, it is a Congress of only 
part of the States. We have seen this Congress pretend to be 
for the Union, when its every step and act tended to perpetuate 
disunion, and make a disruption of the States inevitable. We have 
seen Congress gradually encroach, step by step, upon constitu- 
tional rights, and violate, day after day, and month after month, 
fundamental principles of the Government. We have seen a 
Congress that seemed to forget that there was a limit to the sphere 
and scope of legislation. We have seen a Congress in a minority 
assume to exercise power, which, if allowed to be consummated, 
would result in despotism, in monarchy itself" 

Again: at Cleveland, 0., on the 3d of September, 1866, Presi- 
dent Johnson, addressing a public assemblage, said, — 

" I called upon your Congress, that is trying to break up the 
Government. What has Congress done ? Have they done any 
thing to restore the Union of these States ? No : on the con- 
trary, they have done every thing to prevent it." Again : at St. 
Louis, Mo,, on the 8th of September, the President, addressing a 
large gathering of the citizens, said, calling several prominent 
individual members of Congress by name, — 

" These are the men that compare themselves with the Saviour ; 
and everybody that differs with them in opinion, and who tries to 
stay and arrest their diabolical and nefarious policy, is to be de- 
nounced as a Judas. Well, let me say to you, if you will stand by 
me in trying to give the people a fair chance, soldiers and citizens, 
to participate in these offices, God being willing, I will kick them 
out : I will kick them out just as fast as I can» Let me say to you, 
in conclusion, that what I have said I intended to say. I was not 
provoked into this ; and I care not for their menaces, the taunts 
and the jeers. I care not for threats. I do not intend to be 
bullied by my enemies, nor overawed by my friends ; but, God 
willing, with your help, I will veto their measures whenever they 
coDe to m e." 



480 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

On the 4th of March, at 1 o'clock, p.m., the managers f the im- 
peachment, appointed by the House of Representatives, entered 
the Senate Chamber, followed by the members of the House. The 
Chief Justice of the United States, and the senators, fifty-three in 
number, formed the court and jury. The people of the United 
States, through their representatives in the House, entered the 
prosecution. The President of the United States was the accused 
at the bar. 

The trial was very tedious, continuing for nearly three months. 
A test-article of the impeachment was at length submitted to the 
court for its action. It was certain that as the court voted upon 
that article so it would vote upon all. Thirty-four voices pro- 
nounced the President guilty. Nineteen voices declared him not 
guilty. As a two-thirds vote was necessary to his condemnation, 
he was pronounced acquitted, notwithstanding the very great 
majority against him. The change of one vote from the not guilty 
side would have sustained the impeachment. 

The President, for the remainder of his term, was but little 
regarded. He continued, though impotently, his conflict with 
Congress. His own party did not think it expedient to renomi- 
nate him for the Presidency. The nation rallied, with enthusiasm 
unparalleled since the days of Washington, around the name 
of Gen. Grant. Andrew Johnson was forgotten. The bullet of 
an assassin introduced him to the President's chair. Notwith- 
standing this, never was there presented to a man a better oppor 
tunity to immortalize his name, and to win the gratitude of a nation 
He failed utterly. He retired to his home in Greenville, Tenn., 
taking no very active part in politics until 1875. On Jan. 26, 
after an exciting struggle, he was chosen by the Legislature of 
Tennessee, United-States Senator in the forty-fourth Congress, 
and took his seat in that body, at the special session convened by 
President Grant, on the 5th of March. On the 27th of July, 
1875, the ex-President made a visit to his daughter's home, near 
Carter Station, Tenn. When he started on his journey, he was 
apparently in his usual vigorous health, but on reaching the 
residence of his child the following day was stricken with paraly- 
sis, rendering him unconscious. He rallied occasionally, but 
finally passed away at two a.m., July 31, aged sixty-seven years. 
His funeral was attended at Greenville, on the 3d of August, 
with every demonstration of respect. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



ULYSSES S. GRANT 



rth and Childhood. — Education at West Point. — Life on the Frontiers. — The Mexiosn 
War. — Resigns his Commission. — The Civil War. — Returns to the Army. — Battle of 
Belmont. — Capture of Fort Donelson. — Battles of Shiloh and Pittsburg Landing. — Siege 
of Vicksburg. — Campaign of Chattanooga. — Public Honors. — Commissioned as Lien- 
tenant-General. — Campaign of the Wilderness. — Capture of Lee's Army. — Chosen 
President of the United States. 

There was nothing in the early life of Ulysses S. Grant indica- 
nve 01 a remarkable character. He was an honest-hearted, ener* 




RESIDENCE OF GEN. U. S. GKANT AT GALENA, ILL. 

getic, modest, good boy. But for the Great Rebellion^ his name, 
probably, would never have been known beyond the limits of the 
small Western town in which he was then engaged in humble com- 
mercial life. The war developed in him latent virtues and heroism 
which have crowned him with renown. 

Ulysses was born on the 29th of April, 1822, of Christian 
parents, in a humble home, at Point Pleasant, on the banks of the 
Ohio. Soon after his birth, his father removed to Georgetown, 
Brown County, Ohio. In this remote frontier hamlet, Ulysses 
received a common-school education. At the age of seventeen, in 

61 481 



482 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the year 1839, he entered the Military Academy at We^ Point. 
Here he was regarded as a solid, sensible young man of lair abili- 
ties, and of sturdy, honest character. He took respec fe,ble rank as 
a scholar. In June, 1843, he graduated, about the middle in his 
class, and was sent as lieutenant of infuntry to one of the distant 
military posts in the Missouri Territory. Two years he passed in 
these dreary solitudes, Avatching the vagabond and exasperated 
Indians. 

The war with Mexico came : Lieut. Grant was sent with his 
regiment to Corpus Christi. His first battle was at Palo Alto. 
There was no chance here for the exhibition of either skill or 
heroism. The two parties stood upon a vast open prairie, with 
about half a mile of ground between them. For several hours, 
they fired at each other with cannon. Our guns were the heavier 
and better managed. As night came, the Mexicans retreated: 
They had lost, in killed and wounded, two hundred and sixty-two. 
The Americans lost lour killed, and thirty-two wounded. 

The foe made another stand, a few miles in the rear, at Kesaca 
de la Palma. Here, in the midst of thickets of dwarf oaks, the 
battle was fiercer. The Mexicans, having lost a thousand men, 
retired. Gen. Taylor, who was in command of the United-States 
forces, lost one hundred and fifty. This was Lieut. Grant's second 
battle. 

The American troops, about six thousand strong, then crossed 
the Rio Grande, and marched upon Monterey, which was garri- 
soned by ten thousand Mexicans. After a bloody struggle of 
several days, the city capitulated on the 24tli of September, 1846. 
This was Lieut. Grant's third battle. It is said that he here per- 
formed a signal service of daring and of skilful horsemanship. 
His brigade had exhausted its ammunition. A messenger must 
be sent for more, along a route exposed to the bullets of the foe. 
Lieut. Grant, adopting an expedient learned of the Indians, 
grasped the mane of his horse, and, hanging upon one side of the 
animal, ran the gantlet in safety. 

From Monterey, Lieut. Grant was sent, with the Fourth Infan- 
try, to aid Gen. Scott in the siege of Vera Cruz. Though in 
the capture of this important place he proved himself an effi- 
cient officer, still his rank was too humble to attract any special 
attention. In preparation for the march to the city of Mexico, Le 
was appointed quartermaster of his regiment. At the battle of 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 483 

Molino del Rey, he was promoted to a first lieutenancy, and was 
brevetted captain at Chapultepec. 

At the close of the Mexican War, Capt. Grant returned with 
his regiment to New York, and was again sent to one of the mili- 
tary posts on the frontier. The discovery of gold in California 
causing an immense tide of emigration to flow to the Pacific 
shores, Capt. Grant w^s sent with a battalion to Fort Dallas, in 
Oregon, for the protection of the interests of the emigrants. Life 
was wearisome in those wilds. Capt. Grant resigned his com- 
mission, and returned to the States, and, having married, entered 
upon the cultivation of a small farm near St. Louis, Mo. He had 
but little skill as a farmer. Finding his toil not remunerative, 
he turned to mercantile life, entering into the leather business, 
with a younger brother, at Galena, 111. This was in the year 
1860. The integrity of the brothers, and their devotion to busi- 
ness, gave the firm a high reputation. 

On the 12th of April, 1861, the rebels in Charleston, S.C, com- 
menced war against the flag of the United States, by opening fire 
upon Fort Sumter. As the tidings reached the ears of Capt. 
Grant in his counting-room, he said, — 

" Uncle Sam has educated me for the army ; though I have 
served him through one war, I do not feel that I have yet repaid 
the debt. I am still ready to discharge my obligations. I shall 
therefore buckle on my sword, and see Uncle Sam through this 
war too." 

He went into the streets, raised a company of volunteers, and 
led them as their captain to Springfield, the capital of the State, 
where their services were ofi'ered to Gov. Yates. The govern- 
or, impressed by the zeal and straightforward executive ability 
of Capt. Grant, gave him a desk in his office to assist in the 
volunteer organization which was then being formed in the State 
in behalf of the Government. It was soon evident that his mili- 
tary qualities were of so high an order as to demand for him active 
service in the field. This also was his earnest wish. On the 15th 
of June, 1861, Capt. Grant received a commission as colonel of 
the Twenty-first Regiment of Illinois Volunteers. This regiment 
was soon sent across the Mississippi to guard the Hannibal and 
Hudson Railroad, which ran across the northern portion of Mis- 
Bouri to the Kansas border. There was here no opportunit}^ for 
distinction. Still, his merits as a West-Point gradua^.e, who had 



484 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Ben ed for fifteen years in the regular army, were such, that he 
wae soon promoted to the rank of brigadier-general ; and was 
placed in command at Cairo, where the Ohio and Mississippi 
Rivers meet. 

The rebels raised their banner at Paducah, near the mouth of 
the Tennessee River. Scarcely had its folds appeared in the 
breeze, ere Gen. Grant was there. The rebels fled. Their ban- 
ner fell, and the stars and stripes were unfurled in their stead. 
Garrisoning the post, he advanced to Smithland, at the mouth of 
the Cumberland, which point he also occupied. Subsequent 
events proved the sagacity which induced him to rear his bat- 
teries upon the mouths of these two important streams. 

The rebels assembled an armed force on the Kentucky side of 
the Mississippi, at Columbus, a few miles below Cairo. Here, 
on a bluff, they fortified themselves with ramparts and batteries. 
Their heavy guns commanded the river. Twenty thousand men 
garrisoned the works. On the opposite Missouri shore, they 
were organizing a force at Belmont, to invade south-western Mis- 
souri. Gen. Grant had not sufficient strength to attack Columbus : 
he resolved, however, to attempt the destruction of the camp at 
Belmont. He knew he could not permanently hold the position, 
as it was covered by the guns of Columbus. 

Early in the evening of the 6th of November, Gen. Grant in 
person, with about three thousand men on transports, convoyed 
by two gunboats, commenced the descent of the river. A dark 
and foggy night favored the enterprise. Early in the morning, the 
troops landed, unopposed, on the west bank of the river, three 
miles above the batteries of the foe ; marched rapidly through the 
forest, and threw themselves with the utmost impetuosity upon 
the earthworks at Belmont, which were guarded by nearly twice 
their own number of men. The rebels were taken by surprise. 
Bewildered by the desperation of the assault, after a short conflict, 
they broke, and fled in utter rout. The torch was applied to 
every thing that would burn. The stars and stripes were raised 
over the conquered field ; and a shout rose from the lips of the 
victors, which reached the ears of the garrison at Columbus. 
Their guns were immediately brought to bear upon the audacious 
assailants, and re-enforcements were hurriedly pushed across the 
river to prevent their retreat. As Gen. Grant commenced the 
withdrawal of his troops, an aide rode up, exclaiming exoitedly, 
" We are surrounded 1 " 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 485 

" Very well," said Gen. Grant, " we must cut our way out as we 
cut our way in. We have whipped them once, and I think we 
can do it again." 

They did cut their way out, through thirteen regiments of in- 
fantry and three squadrons of cavalry. They regained their boats, 
and returned rejoicing to Cairo. They had destroyed much rebel 
materiel of war, had captured one hundred and fifty prisoners and 
two guns. Four guns which could not be removed were spiked. 
The rebels lost, in killed and wounded, six hundred and forty-two 
men. Gen. Grant's loss in the bold enterprise was also severe ; 
four hundred and eighty-five being numbered among the killed, 
wounded, and missing. 

The rebels constructed two forts ; one upon the Tennessee River, 
and the other upon the Cumberland River, about ninety miles 
above the mouths of these streams, at a point where these rivers 
approach within twelve miles of each other. Fort Henry, on the 
eastern bank of the Tennessee, was garrisoned by twenty-eight 
hundred men, with seventeen heavy guns. It was a strong field- 
work with bastioned front, supported on the land side by an 
intrenched camp with an extended line of rifle-pits. An expedition 
was sent up the river to capture this fort. It consisted of a fleet 
of seven gunboats, four of which were iron clad, under Com. 
Poote ; and a land force of seventeen thoti&and men, under Gen. 
Grant, which was conveyed in transports. This whole expe- 
lition steamed up the river early in February, 1862, and landed 
:he troops about four miles below the fort. Many of the troops 
disembarked at midnight in a drenching rain. They were to be 
sent circuitously through the forest to attack the fort in the rear, 
and to cut off the retreat of the garrison by what was called the 
Dover Road to Fort Donelson on the Cumberland. 

Gen. Grant had a marcli of eight miles before him, through a 
wilderness which the rains had converted into a morass, and 
where he encountered several unbridged streams. The heroic 
commodore said to Gen. Grant, as he commenced his march, " You 
must move quickly, or I shall take the fort before you get there." 
The gallant little fleet opened fire at a mile and a quarter from the 
fort, and pressed steadily on till within six hundred feet of the 
muzzles of the foe. The fire of the gunboats was so terrible, that 
soon every gun but four was silenced, and the rebels raised the 
white flag of surrender. Nearly all the garrison fled to Donelson, 



486 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

without its being in the power of Gen. Grant to molest them. 
Gen. Tilghman, commander of the fort, and sixty-three men, were 
captured. The fall of Fort Henry opened to our gunboats the 
great avenue of the Tennessee into the heart of the rebel territory. 

Early on the morning of the 12th, Gen. Grant, with his main 
column, fifteen thousand strong, commenced his march across the 
country to Fort Donelson. Com. Foote descended the Tennessee 
to repair his gunboats, that he might ascend the Cumberland, 
and attack Donelson on its water side. Donelson was a cluster 
of forts upon a rugged, rocky eminence, which commanded the 
river for several miles above and below. A better situation for 
defence could scarcely be imagined. Numerous batteries, pro- 
tected by works which no ball could penetrate, threw thirty-twc 
and sixty-four pound shot. Ramparts, bastions, rifle-pits, and 
abatis of felled trees, protected every approach. Twenty thou 
sand soldiers manned the works, commanded by three prominent 
rebel generals, — Buckner, Pillow, and Floyd. The struggle was 
long, desperate, and bloody, marked by heroism, endurance, and 
suffering seldom surpassed in the annals of war. In every san- 
guinary conflict of the three-days' battle. Gen. Grant gained some 
important position. Com. Foote co-operated gallantly with his 
fleet. Every thing gained was held. 

The attack really commenced on the 12th of November, when 
the rebel pickets were driven in by Gen. Grant's advance. On 
the 16th, the fort was surrendered. As Gen. Grant was preparing 
to storm the intrenchments with twenty-seven thousand men, two 
of the rebel generals, with as many of their troops as could escape 
by steamers, abandoned the fort and ascended the river. Gen. 
Buckner sent a bugler to Gen. Grant, with a note asking terms. 
" No terms can be accepted," was the reply, " but unconditional 
surrender. I propose to move immediately upon your works." 
There was no choice left to Buckner. Sixty-five guns, seventeen 
thousand six hundred small-arms, with an immense amount of mil i-| 
tary stores, fell into the hands of the victors. 

The Union loss was about two thousand in killed, wounded, 
ttnd missing. Gen. Grant had introduced a new era of hard fight- 
ing into the conflict. The nation was electrified by the victory. 
Sec. Stanton recommended the successful general as Major-Gen- 
eral of Volunteers. President Lincoln nominated him to the 
Senate the same day. The Senate at once co ifirmed the nomina- 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 487 

tion. B}' the fall of Donelson, which was the first re-illy impor- 
tant success the Uniou arms had achieved, Gen. Grant was lifted 
up into national reputation. The new military district of Tennes- 
see was now assigned to him. 

Like all able captains, Gen. Grant knew well how to secure the 
results of victory. Within a week after the fall of Donelson, he 
sent Gen. C. F. Smith fifty miles farther up the river, with four 
regiments, to take possession of Clarkesville. He also took militar}' 
possession of Nashville, a beautiful city of fifteen thousand inhabit 
ants on the same stream, about one hundred and twenty miles 
from its mouth. Having thus taken command of the Cumberland, 
he removed his headquarters to Fort Henry, that he might also 
control the Tennessee River. 

The enemy was concentrating a large force at Corinth, just 
south of the Tennessee line, in the State of Mississippi, preparing 
to invade Ohio. It was deemed important to break up this 
rendezvous, and, if possible, to destroy this army. Gen. Grant, 
with five divisions in fifty-seven transports, convoyed by gun- 
boats, ascended the Tennessee River to Pittsburg Landing. Th© 
troops were disembarked on the west side of the stream, twenty 
miles from Corinth. Here they waited the arrival of Gen. Buell^ 
who, with forty thousand troops, was marching from Nashville to 
join them. The rebels had seventy thousand men at Corinth. 
Gen. Grant had thirty-five thousand on the west bank of the Ten- 
nessee. Gen. Johnston, in command of the rebel troops, resolved 
to advance with his whole force, and crush Grant's little band 
before Buell could arrive. 

At five o'clock on the morning of the 6th of April, 1862, the 
whole rebel army, in three columns, by a secret march from their 
intrenchments, fell upon our slumbering troops. An awful day of 
carnage ensued, — a day disastrous to the Union arms. Though 
our ti'oops fought with desperation, they were driven back nearly 
three miles with fearful slaughter. Several thousand prisoners 
were taken by the foe. The field was covered with the dying and 
the dead. Apparently, the gunboats alone prevented our routed 
army from being captured, or driven into the river. Night termi- 
nated the conflict. The triumphant rebels had no doubt of an 
easy and entire victory on the morrow. This first day's battle, is 
called the battle of Shiloh, from a church a few miles back from 
the landing where the battle commenced. 



4E88 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Nev3r was the energy of Gen. Grant more signally displayed 
than in these hours of disaster. No thought of ultimate defeat 
seemed to enter his mind. During the niglit, he re-organized his 
shattered divisions, and formed a new line of battle. Twenty 
thousand of Gen. Buell's troops, who arrived after dark, were 
ferried across the stream, and placed in battle-array. Relying 
upon Gen. Buell's remaining troops, fast approaching, for a 
reserve, every available man was prepared for immediate action. 
With the earliest dawn, the national troops advanced from the 
right, the centre, and the left, in an impetuous assault upon tlie 
astonished foe. Inspired with the confidence of victory, they 
swept all opposition before them. During the long hours of the 
day, the conflict raged with uninterrupted fury. Considering the 
numbers engaged, it was one of the bloodiest battles ever fought. 
A dark and stormy night closed the scene. In utter discomfiture, 
the rebels retreated to their intrenchments at Corinth ; having lost 
in the two-days' campaign nearly twenty thousand men. Gen. 
Grant lost on these fields of blood over twelve thousand men. 
No imagination can picture the scene which that plain presented 
after these two storms of war had swept over it. The battle of 
Shiloh was a signal defeat; the battle of Pittsburg Landing, as the 
second day's battle was called, was a still more signal victory. 

Gen. Halleck now took command of the troops, and advanced 
to the siege of Corinth. After the inglorious terraiuaiion of this 
siege, by the abandonment of the posts by the rebels, and their 
escape with all their materiel of war. Gen. Halleck was recalled 
to Washington, and Gen. Grant again assumed command of the 
army of the Tennessee. Establishing his headquarters at Corinth, 
he found all his courage and military ability put to the test in 
warding off the blows of the outnumbering foe who surrounded 
him. He, however, proved equal to the task. We have not here 
space to recount the local conflicts which ensued. In the bloody 
battles of luka and Corinth, the foe was so thoroughly discomfited 
as to relieve West Tennessee from all immediate danger. 

In the latter part of October, large re-enforcements were sent to 
Gen. Grant. Anxious to assume the offensive, he suggested to 
Gen. Halleck that an attack should be made upon Vicksburg, 
where the enemy, garrisoned in great strength, commanded the 
Mississippi River. It was decided to attack the works on the land 
side by fifty thousand troops; while Com. Porter, with a fleet of 



ULY,SSES S. GRANT. 489 

sixty vessels, carrying two hundred and eighty guns and eiglit 
hundred men, should attack from the river. 

The siege which ensued is one of the most memorable in the 
annals of war. A volume would be required to give the details 
of its varied and wondrous undertakings. All the energies of en- 
gineering and of battle were called into requisition. The siego 
of Vicksburg, in reality, spread over countless leagues of ter 
ritory. For da3's, weeks, months, there were almost incessant 
battles. The enterprise may be considered as commencing early 
in February, 1863. In the progress of the siege, a mine was dug 
under one of the most important batteries of the enemy, and 
charged with over two thousand pounds of po\\;der. The explo- 
sion of this mine was to be the signal for a simultaneous attack 
by land and water. 

It was the 25th of June, 1863, a delightful summer's day. The 
match was applied at three o'clock in the afternoon. The whole 
army, drawn up for an immediate assault, seemed to hold its breath 
in suspense, awaiting the terrible explosion. A white line of 
smoke ran along the trench through which the fuse was laid, and 
the fire crept rapidly towards the buried magazine. Then came 
an awiui underground thundering, as of earthquake throes, a flash, 
and the upheaving of a mountain into the air. Earth, rocks, 
timber, guns, and the mangled forms of men, were blended to- 
gether in that awful volcanic eruption which darkened the skies. 
Instantly, over a line of twelve miles in length, the tempest of 
battle immediately burst with the intensest fury. An eye- 
witness writes, — 

" The scene at this time was one of the utmost sublimity. The 
roar of artillery, the rattle of small-arms, the cheers of the men, 
the flashes of light, the wreaths of pale blue smoke over difler- 
ent parts of the field, the bursting of shells, the fierce wliistlo of 
solid shot, the deep boom of the mortars, the broadsides of the 
ships of war, and, added to all this, the vigorous replies of the 
enemy, sent up a din which beggars all description." 

The defence of Vicksburg was as determined as the assault. 
When some one asked Gen. Grant if he thought he could take the 
place, he replied, " Certainly. I cannot tell exactly when I shall 
take the town; but I mean to stay here till I do, if it takes me 
thirty years." 

On the 1st of July, his works were at ten different points, within 

62 



490 



LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 



a few hu ^.dred feet of the rebel defences. The hnal assault was to 
take place on the 4th. The rebel general, Pemberton, aware that 
he could not repel the charge, on the 3d proposed terms of capitula 
tion. Gen. Grant replied, that his only terms were the uncondi 
tional surrender of the city and garrison. Gen. Pemberton, hoping 
to obtain more favorable terms, urged a personal interview. The 




INTERVIEW llL,i'\VEEN GRANT AND i'hlilBEliTON. 



two generals met, each accompanied by several officers of his 
staff, upon a gentle eminence, beneath an oak-tree, not two hun- 
dred feet from the rebel lines. Both armies gazed with interest 
upon the spectacle. Courteously these leaders of hostile ranks 
shook hands. Gen. Grant adhered to his terms of unconditional 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 491 

surrender, the officers and soldiers all to be liberated upon their 
parole. Gen. Pemberton, conscious that further resistance was 
hopeless, after conferring with his officers, accepted the terms pro- 
posed. At ten o'clock on the 4th of July, 1863, white flags arose 
all along the rebel lines, announcing the surrender of the place. 
Gen. Grant, with his staff, rode at the head of his troops, as they 
entered the city, and took possession of all the works. A more 
signal conquest has seldom been made. Thirty thousand six hun- 
dred prisoners were taken, and one hundred and seventy-two can- 
non. 

The fall of Vicksburg was by far the most terrible blow which 
the rebels had thus far encountered. It rendered it necessary for 
them immediately to evacuate Port Hudson ; and thus the Missis- 
sippi was thrown open to our gunboats from Cairo to the Gulf. 

Gen. Grant was anxious to move immediately upon Mobile. 
With the force at his command, he could then have easily taken 
the place ; but he received orders from Washington to co-operate 
with Gen. Banks in a movement upon Texas. He, accordingly, on 
the 30th of August, left Vicksburg for New Orleans. In that city, 
he was thrown from his horse, receiving injuries which seriously 
disabled him for several months. For twenty days, he could not 
leave his bed. For many weeks afterwards he could only hobble 
about upon crutches. 

Gen. Rosecrans was in East Tennessee, near Chattanooga. He 
had fifty-five thousand men under his command. He was in great 
peril, far from his base of supplies, and menaced by a rebel force 
eighty thousand strong. One of the most terrible battles of the 
war was fought — the battle of Chickamauga — on the 19th of Sep- 
tember, 1863. The national troops, having lost sixteen thousand 
in killed, wounded, and missing, were driven back behind their in- 
trenchments at Chattanooga, where they were closely besieged by 
a rebel force of eighty thousand men. As their lines of commu- 
nication were cut ofi", they were threatened with total destruction. 
Gen. Grant was sent to their relief. Seldom before in the his- 
tory of the world has there been such an illustration of the power 
of a single man to control events. On the 19th of October, Gen. 
Grant telegraphed Gen. Thomas, to whose heroism the army 
was mainly indebted for its salvation in the terrible battle of Chick- 
amauga, •' Hold Chattanooga at all hazards. I will be there as 
soon as possible." The characteristic response of Gen. Thomaa 



492 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was, " I will hold the town till we starve." On the 23d cf Octoberj 
a cold, stormy day, Gen. Grant, chilled, drenched, exhausted, 
entered Chattanooga in the evening. The gloom of nature seemed 
in sympath}^ with the gloom of the army. The energy and the 
militar}^ sagacity immediately displayed by Gen. Grant has per 
haps never been surpassed. 

First, by a wonderful series of strategic and tactical measures, 
he opened a sure line of communication, by which his army speed- 
ily received re-enforcements and abundant supplies. Five days 
accomplished this. The whole army was inspired with such new 
life as to double its moral strength. Gen. Sherman, with the 
Fifteenth Army Corps, was hurried along, by forced marches, from 
the Valley of the Mississippi. The rebels were alarmed. "The 
enemy," said their leading organ, " The Richmond Enquirer," 
"were outfought at Chickamauga ; but the present position of affairs 
looks as though we had been out-generalled at Chattanooga." 

Gen. Sherman, wading through miry roads, bridging flooded 
streams, and often fighting his way, was painfully delayed, though 
he manifested heroism and energy which elicited the praises of his 
superior officer and the admiration of the nation. Gen. Burnside 
was in imminent danger of being overwhelmed at Knoxville, — 
a calamity which would have fearfully imperilled the army at 
Chattanooga. Every energy of Gen. Grant's soul and body was 
strained to the utmost. At length Gen. Sherman's troops arrived, 
and were gathered in a concealed camp about two miles west of 
Chattanooga. Gen. Grant was now ready to assume the offensive. 
It would require a volume to give the reader any adequate idea 
of the multiplied evolutions in the terrible battles which ensued, 
extending over mountains and through forests and valleys for a 
distance of thirteen miles. At midnight on the 23d of November, 
Gen. Sherman's troops crossed the Tennessee River, a few miles 
above Chattanooga, and took a commanding position to attack the 
enemy on his right, north of Missionary Ridge. The next day 
Gen. Hooker magnificently stormed Lookout Mountain, on the 
enemy's extreme left, driving the rebels in wild rout before him. 
The next day, the 25th, the whole army rushed upon the foe, upon 
the right, upon the left and at the centre. The battle was ter- 
rific. Human valor never has done, never can do more. The 
main attack was at the centre, from Orchard Knoll, where Gen. 
Grant took his position. 



ULYSSES S. GEANT. 493 

The scene cannot be described, cannot be imagined. At this 
point of the line, which extended for many miles, and which 
along its whole distance was ablaze with the lightnings of battle's 
tempest, there were thirteen thousand men rushing headlong in 
the assault, with shouts which blended sublimely with the rat- 
tle of musketry and the roar of cannon. Eight thousand rebels 
opposed them, lighting desperately behind their intrenchments. 
There were sixty explosions of cannon each minute. The assail- 
ants and the assailed were soon blended, upon the ramparts 
and in the trenches. It was a day of blood, anguish, death, to 
thousands. The Union loss, in killed and wounded, was four thou- 
sand. The rebel loss has never been known. When night came, 
the national banner waved over all the works which the rebels 
held in the morning ; and the panic-stricken foe was retreating in 
torrents which no commands, entreaties, or threats of their oflScers 
could arrest. In the following modest telegram. Gen. Grant an 
nounced to the authorities in Washington his glorious victory: — 

" Although the battle lasted from early dawn till dark this 
evening, I believe I am not premature in announcing a complete 
victory over Bragg. Lookout Mountain top, all the rifle-pits in 
Chattanooga Valley, and Missionary Ridge entire, have been 
carried, and are now held by iis. I have no idea of finding Bragg 
here to-morrow." 

This great achievement pierced the heart of the Rebellion, 
relieved Gen. Burnside, rescued Kentucky and Tennessee from 
rebel thraldom, and opened the gate for the triumphant sweep of 
the national army through Georgia to the Atlantic coast. Vigor- 
ously Gen. Grant pushed the routed foe, driving his broken bat- 
talions towards Atlanta. The roads along which they had fled 
were strewed with abandoned guns, muskets, broken wagons, and 
all the nameless debris of a routed, panic-stricken host. The 
rebels applied the torch to most of the stores which they could 
not take with them, and destroyed behind them all the bridges, 
and felled trees into the road to impede the progress of their 
pursuers. Still their flight had been so precipitate that they had 
been compelled to leave much behind. Our victorious troops 
gathered up a pontoon-train of fifteen boats ; forty pieces of artil- 
lery, including two sixty-four-pounder rifled cannon ; sixty-nine 
carriages and caissons; seven thousand stand of small-arms ; sixty 
thousand rations of corn, fifty thousand of meal, four hundred 



494 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

gallons of molasses, one thousand pounds of bacon; together with 
a considerable quantity of ordnance stores, artillery and small- 
arm ammunition, and six thousand one hundred and forty-two 
prisoners. 

In the flight and hot pursuit, the rear guard of the foe occasion- 
ally made a stand, and short, fierce conflicts ensued. Gen. Grant 
gave the fugitive rebels no rest until they were driven fairly out 
of Tennessee into Georgia. It must be the opinion of all familiar 
with military afiairs, that Grant's campaign of Chattanooga is one 
of the most memorable in history. He was ably supported by as 
noble a corps of generals as any commander ever drew around 
him. Still it was mainly to the skill of the commanding general, 
in his admirable disposition of his forces, that we were indebted for 
the result. Without this no human valor could have driven the 
foe from the almost impregnable post which he occupied. An 
Indian chieftain, of the Tonawanda tribe, Col. Parker, in the fol- 
lowing terms describes Gen. Grant's conduct in the battle : — 

" It has been a matter of universal wonder in this army that 
Gen. Grant was not killed ; for the general was always in the front, 
and perfectly regardless of the storm of hissing bullets and 
screaming shells flying around him. His apparent want of sensi- 
bility does not arise from heedlessness, heartlessness, or vain mili- 
tary affectation, but from a sense of the responsibility resting upon 
him when in battle. 

" At Ringgold we rode for half a mile, in the face of the enemy, 
under an incessant fire of cannon and musketry ; nor did we ride 
fasti^ but upon an ordinary trot ; and not once, do I believe, did it 
enter the general's mind that he was in danger. I was by his side, 
and watched him closely. In riding that distance, we were going 
to the front. I could see that he was studying the positions of 
the two armies, and, of course, planning how to defeat the enemy, 
who were making a desperate stand, and slaughtering our men 
fearfully." 

Immediately upon the meeting of Congress after these events, 
a vote was passed, presenting the thanks of that body to Gen. 
Grant and the officers and soldiers under his command. A gold 
medal was also ordered to be struck off", with suitable emblems, to 
be presented to Gen. Grant. Several of the States also passed 
resolutions of thanks to Grant and his army. 

The energetic ge aeral manifested no disposition to rest after the 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 495 

campaign of Chattanooga. He gathered up his s.rength to push 
the war with renewed vigor. It was now winter. An immense 
army was to be housed, clothed, fed. The rebel forces were to 
be destroyed wherever they could be found in rendezvous. 
Three armies were under his command, extending over a line a. 
thousand miles in length. Herculean mental energies must be 
requisite to bear such a burden. Gen. Grant was responsible for 
all the movements or neglect of action. In a magnificent cam- 
paign, Gen. Sherman drove the rebels out of Tennessee, subsisting 
his army upon the stores which he captured. In midwinter, 
through storms and drifting snows which encumbered the moun- 
tain passes, Gen. Grant, on horseback, visited the outposts of his 
army. At Knoxville, Louisville, Lexington, St. Louis, he was re- 
ceived with the greatest enthusiasm. But no efibrts could either 
flatter him or provoke him into making a speech. He was em- 
phatically a man of deeds, not of words. There was perhaps one 
exception. He did make a speech at St. Louis. He was sere- 
naded in the evening at his hotel. An immense throng in front of 
the hotel, in an incessant clamor, shouted " Speech ! " " Speech ! " 
Alter a long delay, the general appeared upon the balcony. There 
was breathless silence. Leaning over the railing, the general said 
slowly, deliberately, firmly, — 

'' Gentlemen, making speeches is not my business. I never 
did it in my life, and I never will. I thank you, however, for 
your attendance here." 

He then bowed, and retired amiast immense applause. National 
honors were now lavished upon him. On the 4th of February, 
1864, Congress revived the grade of lieutenant-general, and the 
rank was conferred on Gen. Grant. On the 3d of March, he 
was summoned to Washington to receive his credentials, and to 
enter upon the immense responsibilities of his new office. His 
fame filled the land. On his rapid journey, at every depot crowds 
were gathered to catch a glimpse of one whose deeds outrivalled 
those of any other living general. A singular scene of enthusi- 
asm was witnessed upon his arrival in Washington. 

With characteristic modesty, arriving unheralded, he quietly 
repaired to Willard's Hotel, and took a seat at the table in the 
dining-room. A gentleman at the table recognized him, and, 
rising, announced to the numerous company that Gen. Ulysses 
S. Grant was in the room. Simultaneously the whole company 



496 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

sprang to their feet, and. cheer after cheer rang throug: the 
hall. 

In the evening, he attended President Lincohi's levee. The 
enthusiasm his presence excited absorbed universal attention. 
Such a scene had never before been witnessed in the presidential 
mansion. The noble President, into whose magnanimous soul an 
emotion of jealousy never found its way, stood by the side of his 
illustrious guest, cheering as heartily as any of the company. 
But Gen. Grant had no taste for such ovations. They were only 
painful to him. As he retired that night, he said to a friend, — 

" I hope to getaway from Washington as soon as possible ; for I 
am tired of the show business already." 

On the 9th, Gen. Grant received in the executive chamber, 
with impressive solemnities, his commission as lieutenant-gen- 
eral. All the cabinet, and other distinguished guests, were pres- 
ent. In response to a few hearty words from President Lincoln, 
Gen. Grant said, — 

" Mr. President, I accept this commission with gratitude for 
the high honor conferred. With the aid of the noble armies who 
have fought on so many fields for our common country, it will be 
my earnest endeavor not to disappoint your expectations. I feel 
the full weight of the responsibility now devolving upon me. I 
know, that, if it is properly met, it will be due to these armies, and, 
above all, to the favor of that Providence which leads both 
nations and men." 

We were still in the midst of the war. The land was filled 
with widows and with orphans. Vast armies were still facing each 
other, gathering their strength for a renewal of the conflict. It 
was certain that many a bloody battle was yet to be fought, and 
that many a field was yet to be covered with the mutilated, the 
dying, and the dead. Some of the ladies in Washington, patriotic 
and noble women, but without sufficient reflection, proposed a ball 
in connection with the grand review of the army which was imme- 
diately to take place. Gen. Grant replied to them kindly, yet 
sadly, in terms which endeared him to every soldier and every 
soldier's friend, — 

" Ladies, I am not a cynic. I enjoy rational pleasures is well as 
any one else. But I would ask you, in all candor and gentleness, 
if this is a time for music and dancing and feasting among the 
officers of the army? Is our country in a condition to call for 



ULYSiiES S. GRANT. 497 

Buch things at present? Do army balls inspire our troops with 
courage in the field? Do they soothe our sick and wounded in 
the hospitals?" 

The ladies recognized the propriety of these sentiments, and 
cheerfully relinquished the plan. All Gen. Grant's energies were 
now roused anew to terminate the war by the only possible way 
tlie destruction of the enemy's forces. He decided to concentrate 
the widely-dispersed national troops for an attack upon Richmond, 
the nominal capital of the Rebellion, and to endeavor there to de^ 
stroy the rebel armies which would be promptly assembled from 
all quarters for its defence. The whole continent seemed tc 
tremble beneath the tramp of these majestic armies, rushing to 
the decisive battle-field. Steamers were crowded with troops. 
Rail-trains were burdened with the closely packed thousands. 
All the great roads converging towards Richmond were thronged 
with the multitudinous host. 

Gen. Grant's comprehensive plan involved a series of cam- 
paigns. Washington was to be protected from any sudden raid- 
by a force in the Valley of the Shenandoah under Gen. Sigel, 
who. at Pea Ridge, had performed exploits which entitled him tc 
a nation's gratitude. Gen, Butler, a man of wide renown foi 
energy of character and executive ability, which, perhaps, has 
never been surpassed, with a large force of white and colored 
troops, was to ascend James River, and take position as near as 
possible to Richmond on the south-east. Gen. Sherman, the 
Marshal Ney of our armies, whose signal merits Gen. Grant fully 
comprehended, and whom the nation was just beginning to appre- 
ciate, was intrusted with the conduct of one of the most adven- 
turous campaigns which has ever been recorded in the annals 
of war. 

From Chattanooga, Gen. Sherman was to crowd closely the re- 
treating army of the rebels, so as to prevent their despatching 
any re-enforcements to Richmond, and to fight his way through the 
whole length of Georgia to Savannah; destroying the enemy's 
forces wherever he should meet them, their munitions of war, 
and every thing which could contribute to the support of the rebel 
armies. Having captured Savannah, to which port ample sup- 
pHes were to be forwarded to him by water, he was to turn north, 
sweeping all opposition before him, devastating the country so as 
to pre 'ent any armies from the extreme South from following 

63 



4D8 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

him. He was to capture, by the way, Charleston, Coli nbia, and 
every other miHtary post of the rebels, and press vigcrously on 
until he should catch sight of the beleaguering banners gathered 
around the walls of Richmond. The conception of the campaign 
was bold, magnificent. It was executed by Gen. Sherman with 
heroism which has elicited the admiration of the world. 

Gen. Meade, one of our most reliable officers, was then in com- 
mand of the Army of the Potomac, so called. This army consisted 
of about one hundred thousand men, encamped among the hills" 
north of the Rapidan. Here Gen. Grant established his head- 
quarters, rapidly accumulating strength, so as to attack the rebel 
general, Lee, upon the south side of the river, and drive him back 
behind the intrenchments of Richmond, when the city would be 
taken by storm if possible, if not, by siege. 

At midnight of the 3d of May, 1864, Gen. Grant broke camp, 
and, with liis whole army in light marching order, crossed the 
Rapidan unopposed, a few miles below the intrenchments of the 
rebels. The " sun of Austerlitz " shone upon the rejoicing host, 
as with rapid footsteps, all the day, they pressed along, by a flank 
movement, to gain the rear of the foe. In three columns this 
majestic army of one hundred and fifty thousand men swept 
through the forest paths of this wild and rugged region, appropri- 
ately called the Wilderness. The spectacle presented the ensuing 
night was one of the most brilliant and picturesque in war's 
pageants. The encampment was in a region of great beauty. 
Over a region of eight miles in length, tlie hillsides and the 
ravines were illuminated with the camp-fires of the army, aud no 
sounds were heard but those of joy. But, during these warm and 
peaceful summer hours, the tempest of war was gathering its 
bolts. 

Gen. Lee, in command of the rebel hosts, was an officer of 
great ability. He led troops as desperate in valor as ever 
shouldered a musket. Massing his forces in an immense column, 
he suddenly emerged from the forest, and fell upon the centre of 
our extended line, hoping to cut it in two, and then to destroy 
each part piecemeal. The battle was long, terrible, raging hour 
after hour throughout the whole day, assault following assault. 
When night came, six thousand had been struck down on the two 
sides by war's death-dealing missiles. The night was dark, but 
mild. The exhausted combatants slept. The dead were bi^ried 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. (99 

by the liglit of " the lantern dimly burning," The dying, on the 
crimson sod, groaned their lives away. The ambulances dripped 
with blood as they bore their mutilated burdens over the rough 
ground. Through all the long hours the surgeons were busy with 
the mercifully-cruel knife and saw. 

With the rising of the next morning's sun, the roar of battle 
was resumed. Both parties had gathered all their strength during 
(he night, again to grapple each other in death's throes. It was a 
day of terror and of blood. Before the sun went down, ten thou- 
sand Union troops were either killed or wounded. Probably an 
equal number of the rebel host had fallen. But notwithstanding 
their renewed assaults, striking the line here and there, they had 
utterly failed to accomplish their purpose. 

In the night, Gen. Lee, with his army, retreated to seize upon 
another important post, previously intrenched near Spottsylvania 
Court House. The union army pressed along towards the same 
point in nearly parallel lines. There were many fierce battles 
during the day, as portions of the antagonistic hosts, each about 
one hundred and fifty thousand strong, were brought into contact. 
This third day's battle of the Wilderness was one of the most 
singular which ever occurred. The parallel lines were eight or 
ten miles in length ; and there were many sanguinary battles 
fought where the combatants, concealed by the forest and the un- 
derbrush, could scarce catch sight of each other. 

The rebels gained the intrenchments during the night of Satur- 
day. Sunday morning. Gen. Grant fell upon their works. There 
was another long day of battle and of blood. The rebels were 
driven from their first line of intrenchments, with the loss of 
twenty-five hundred prisoners. The light of Monday morning had 
scarcely dawned ere Gen. Grant, with all his batteries, again 
opened fire upon the foe behind his earthworks. All the day the 
roar of battle was unintermitted. Monday night came and went 
in silence. Heavy eyelids dropped in sleep, and exhausted arms 
were nerveless. 

Tuesday morning, the 10th of May, roused both armies, invigo- 
rated by a few hours of sleep and rest. The rebels were strongly 
intrenched. The national troops bent around them in a circuit 
about six miles in extent. With the morning the battle was 
recommenced, and continued until night. The mightiest billows 
of war swept incessantly to and fro over the fields. At the close 



500 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of the day, a simultaneous assault was made upon the entire rebel 
line. The charge was resistless. They were swept from their 
outer series of intrenchments, having lost two thousand prisoners. 
Darkness terminated the awful struggle. Twenty thousand men. 
ten thousand on either side, were the victims of this day of 
carnage. 

These incessant battles had so exhausted both armies, tliat for 
one day there was a partial lull in the conflict. The rebels kept 
behind their intrenchments, while burial-parties were busy covering 
the dead. Still Gen. Grant kept up a continual shelling of their 
lines, and made preparation to attack the sleeping foe by surprise 
when darkness should come. At midnight, in the midst of a 
tempest of thunder, lightning, and drenching rain. Gen. Hancock 
plunged with a strong column upon one division of the foe, and 
drove them pell-mell before him, capturing seven thousand pris- 
oners and thirty-two guns. This impetuous charge was the signal 
for another general battle which continued during the remainder 
of the night, and continued with unintermitted fury, as the sun 
rose, as noon came and went, until the evening twilight again 
darkened the scene. A struggle of fourteen hours struck down 
twenty thousand in dead and wounded. By such carnage both 
armies would soon have been consumed, were it not that they 
were both continually receiving re-enforcements. 

Still Gen. Grant was steadily pressing forward, never relinquish- 
ing a foot of ground which he had gained. In the day's conflict, 
he pushed his line forward a full mile, lapping over the left centre 
of the foe. The night was dark and tempestuous. The rain fell 
fast, and the dismal storm wailed through the tree-tops as if in 
sympathy with human woe. Twenty thousand sons, husbands, 
fathers, wounded and dying! Who can gauge the dimensions of 
such woe ? Who can imagine the anguish the tidings conveyed 
to thousands of once happy homes ? And who is to be held re- 
sponsible for all this misery, — those who were defending our free 
institutions, that equal rights for all men might be transmitted to 
our posterity ; or those who had wantonly, with arms in their hands, 
made war upon the national banner, that they mi<ght destroy the 
government which our fathers have transmitted to us, and erect 
upon the ruins a new government whose corner-stone should b© 
slavery ? There can be no question upon which side the sympa 
thj 3s of Heaven were enlisted. 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 501 

During this dreadful night of dying groans, of darkness, rain, 
and wind, the national army marched rapidly and secretly along 
by another flank movement, and before the dawn had gained the 
new vantage-ground which they sought. This was a series of 
ridges two miles beyond Spottsylvania Court House. But the 
watchful rebels had already manned intrenchments before them, 
which had previously been prepared to arrest any such march 
upon Richmond. Sundaj' morning came, the twelfth day of the 
campaign. The roads, inundated with rain, had become almost 
impassable. Both parties were in a state of extreme exhaustion. 
New supplies of ammunition were needed, and re-enforcements to 
fill up the broken ranks. Intrenchments were thrown up on each 
side, and positions taken for the renewal of the conflict. Thus 
passed Monday and Tuesday. At midnight of Tuesday, Gen. 
Grant put several strong columns in motion to attack the enemy 
by surprise upon his left: reconnoitering parties had detected some 
weakness there. 

With the early light of Wednesday morning, the assault com- 
menced. The roar of another pitched battle, extending for miles, 
in which several hundred cannon blended their voices, echoed 
over the hills. The defence was as spirited as the assault. At 
eleven o'clock in the morning, our columns, unable to break aline 
frowning with rifle-pits, abatis, and ramparts, withdrew, having 
lost twelve hundred in killed and wounded. As soon, however, as 
night again came. Gen. Grant sent a cavalry force ten miles for- 
ward in a south-east direction to seize Guinea Station, on the Rich- 
mond and Fredericksburg Railroad. They seized the position, and 
in the morning the whole army followed. To meet the wants of 
the army in this rapid advance. Gen. Grant was continually so 
changing his base of supplies as to prevent the foe from falling 
back upon his rear, and cutting off his supply-trains. 

Many of the intelligent community felt great anxiety lest the 
foe should turn back, in all his strength, and capture Washington. 

The following conversation is reported as having taken place in 
the tent of the reticent general. A stranger who was present 
said, — 

" General, if you flank Lee, and get between him and Rich- 
mond, will you not uncover Washington, and leave it exposed to 
the enemy ? " 

" Yes : I reckon so," was the general's quiet reply. 



502 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" Do you not think, general," the stranger continued, " that Lee 
can detach sufficient force to re-enforce Beauregard at RichuQDnd, 
and overwhelm Butler?" 

" I have not a doubt of it," Grant replied. 

"And is there not danger," the stranger added, "that Johnston 
may come up and re-enforce Lee, so that the latter will swing 
round, and cut off your communications, and seize your supplies ? " 

"Very likely," was the unconcerned response. 

Gen. Grant had carefully weighed all these possibilities. His 
military sagacity had taught him that Gen. Lee, pressed as 
Grant was pressing him, would not attempt any one of them. He 
had also decided just what to do in case either of these move- 
ments should be undertaken. By Gen. Grant's last advance to 
Guinea Station, the rebels were left nearly ten miles in his rear. 
They made a desperate attack upon the supply-wagons, which 
were then defiling in a long line from Fredericksburg. The 
wagons were so well guarded that the attack of the foe was futile. 
The fierceness of the assault, and the resolution of the defence, 
may be inferred from the fact that twenty-four hundred men, on 
the two sides, were killed or wounded in the conflict. 

Gen. Lee was thoroughly alarmed. He was not only in danger 
that his line of communication would be cut off, but also that Gen. 
Grant might seize the intrenchments around Richmond, and 
render the capture of the city and the destruction of his army 
inevitable. Thus, in the greatest haste, he abandoned the strong 
works he was then occupying, and took another line of defence 
on the banks of the North Anna lliver. While on their march. 
Gen. Grant sent a division to fall upon their rear. Four hundred 
prisoners were cut off. The rebels were driven across the Ny, 
leaving the path behind them strewed with their wounded and 
dying. 

Both armies were immersed in the intricacies of hills and 
ravines densely covered with forests. It was Friday, the 20th of 
May. The troops on each side were pushing rapidly for Rich- 
mond, in nearly parallel lines, but a few miles separated from each 
other. On Saturday the LTnion troops reached Bowling Green, 
having marched thirty-two miles that day. 

" The march of the army on Saturday was picturesque and 
beautiful. It was one of the loveliest days of spring, with a cloud- 
less sky, a bright sun, and an invigorating breeze. The road.s 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 503 

were dry and in perfect condition. The scenery was enchanting, 
with its clear streams, its green meadows, its hills, its groves, its 
luxuriance, and its bloom. An army of one hundred and fifty 
thousand men, with their banners, their gleaming weapons, their 
plumed horsemen, their artillery, their wagons, crowded the roads 
winding over the hills and through the valleys. Few persons are 
aware of the magnitude of such an army. Gen. Grant's vast host 
— artillery, infantry, and baggage-train — would fill, in a contin- 
uous line of march, any one road to its utmost capacity, for a dis- 
tance of nearly one hundred miles. In this march, the immense 
army crowded the whole region over a breadth of from ten to 
fifteen miles. All the public roads and wood-paths were traversed. 
One mind presided supreme over these operations, as day after 
day, and night after night, through darkness, through forest, 
through morasses, over streams and rivers, storming intrench- 
. ments, and fighting their way against a determined foe of a hun- 
dred thousand desperate soldiers, the Union troops pressed 
resistlessly on."* 

All day Sunday, both armies marched rapidly along. Gen. Lee 
watched anxiously, but in vain, for an opportunity to break Gen. 
Grant's line by a flank attack. Several assaults were made, which 
were promptly repulsed, Monday morning. Gen. Grant was within 
forty miles of Richmond. The rebels attempted to make a stand 
on the banks of the North Anna. They were driver, from their 
intrenchments, and the Union troops encamped upon both sides 
of the stream. On Tuesday the whole army, with all its materiel, 
crossed the rapid stream. Gen. Grant was within a day's march 
of Richmond. His line had a front about four miles in extent, 
facing west. Gen. Lee, at the distance of a few miles, on a paral- 
lel line, was facing east. 

A reconnoissance showed that Lee was too strongly intrenched 
to be attacked. Gen. Grant, concealing his movement by a 
strong demonstration, re-crossed the river. Marching rapidly down 
its northern bank, he seized Hanover Ferr}'-, on the Pamunkey 
River, which stream is formed by the union of the North and 
South Anna. By a new change in his line of communication, all 
hi§ supplies were brought in transports up the Pamunkey. He 
was now within fifteen miles of Richmond. The military ability 

♦ Life of Gen. Grant, by John S. C Abbott. 



504 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

dis] layed in this march from the Rapidan to the Pamunkey has 
rarely been surpassed. Apparently, there was perfect harmony 
between him and his officers. There were no misunderstandings. 
His words were few. His orders Avere so distinctly given that 
they could not be misapprehended. 

It is difficult to conceive how the army could have endured 
such fatiguQ. It seemed to be Gen. Grant's plan to march all day 
and fight all night. Waiting at Hanover Ferry for a few hours, to 
concentrate his troops, the whole army, with its baggage-train, 
crossed the Pamunkey on Sunday, the 29th. During the day. 
there were many severe skirmishes with the foe. But nothing 
could retard the advance of the national troops. 

On Wednesday morning, June 1, Gen. Grant's army was at Cold 
Harbor, within a few miles of Richmond. His troops were posted 
in a line about eight miles in length, extending north-east and 
south-west. Gen. Lee vigorously assailed several positions of the 
line, hoping to break it. He was invariably repulsed. On each 
side a thousand in killed and wounded were the victims of this 
day. Lee's army now took position behind the ramparts, bastions, 
and forts, which had been reared, with the highest attainments of 
military skill, for the defence of Richmond. These works were 
manned with the heaviest guns. The garrison in Richmond and 
Lee's army united crowded them with desperate defenders. 

Wednesday night was dark and rainy. Through the dismal 
hours of the night, and through all the day of Thursday, Gen. 
Grant was arraying his forces for an attack upon the intrenched 
foe. The strength of the works could only be ascertained by 
attacking them. Success would open to him an unobstructed 
path into Richmond. Should he fail, he had another plan carefully 
matured. On Thursday, there were several sanguinary conflicts, 
as the troops were massed for the decisive struggle. At four 
o'clock, Friday morning, the battle commenced. All the energies 
of both armies were roused to the utmost. A dreadful day of 
blood ensued. In charge after charge, the Union troops advanced 
to the muzzles of the intrenched guns of the foe, which were 
belching forth storms of canister and grape. Three hundred 
thousand men were struggling along a line several miles in length, 
plying, with frantic energy, the most murderous instruments of 
modern warfare. Clouds of cavalry swept to and fro. Batteries 
wer<3 ?ost, and batteries were won. There were successful chargea 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 505 

and bloody repulses. The battle ceased only with the night. 
Seven thousand of the national troops had been killed or wounded. 
Though we had made a decided advance, and gained several im- 
portant positions, it was manifest that the rebels were so firmly 
intrenched that they could not be driven from their works. 

Mercy would throw a veil over the horrors of a night succeed- 
ing a bloody battle. The burial of the dead, the dying groans, 
Lrhe blood-dripping ambulances, the saw and the knife of the sur- 
geon cutling through quivering nerves, — all this the army must 
disregard so far as possible, that the troops, in a few hours of 
sleep, may get strength to renew the struggle on the morrow. 

Saturday morning dawned. The hostile forces at many points 
were within a few yards of each other, rampart frowning upon 
rampart. Tens of thousands were busy with the spade, while 
sharpshooters on either side kept up an incessant fire. After dark, 
the rebels concentrated a heavy force, and threw it upon our ex- 
treme left. Gen. Hancock received them without recoil, and 
threw them back, routed and bleeding. All day Sunday, both 
parties continued at work in the trenches, while shells were vigor- 
ously thrown from both sides, and not a head or hand could be 
exposed but it became the target for many bullets. 

The ensuing night was very dark. A chill, dense fog settled 
down over the whole region. At midnight the rebels made 
another desperate plunge with a strong column upon a portion in 
our line, opening at the same time a terrible fire from all the bat- 
teries which could be brought to bear upon the point of attack. 
The veteran nation;il troops, now familiar with all conceivable 
vicissitudes and horrors of war, stood as firm as the granite clilF 
against which the surge is dashed and broken. Volley after vol- 
ley of grape and canister was poured into the advancing ranks. 
Leaving tlie ground covered with more than a thousand of the 
wounded and the slain, they turned and fled. The war-tempest 
disappeared as suddenly as it had risen. 

Tuesday was like Monday. Spades were everywhere busy. 
The air was filled with shells. The roar of artillery incessantly 
shook the hills, and the crackle of rifles from thousands of sharp- 
shooters, ever on the alert, was unintermitted. Again, at mid- 
night, the rebels made an assault upon Gen. Burnside's corps. 
That gallant officer, who had won renown at Knoxville, repulsed 
them bloodily. Wednesday came and went. Through all its 

64 



506 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

hours the roar of the bombardment continued, gun answering* 
gun, while ramparts and bastions rose as by magic, facing each 
other, and often so near that the soldiers interchanged jokes and 
banter. There was not a strong antagonism between the rank 
and file of the armies. The leaders of the Rebellion, with power 
over the unenlightened poor white population of the South 
Bcarcely exceeded by that of the feudal despots of the middle 
ages over their serfs, had brought on the war. 

Thoughtful men were wondering what object Gen. Grant had 
in view in the tremendous labors of this week of battle. It was 
manifest that he could not take by storm the works of the foe 
frowning before him. The mystery was soon revealod. On Sat- 
urday, orders were given for the immediate and vigorous change 
of the base of supplies from the Chickahoininy to the James 
River. Sunday morning, blinding the eyes of the foe with a cloud 
of skirmishers, Gen. Grant, with the mass of his immense army, 
commenced another flank movement. Descending the left bank 
of the Chickahominy, he crossed it unseen, several miles below the 
enemj^^'s lines, and by a rapid march reached the James River, 
crossed it on pontoon-bridges, and took a strong position in the 
rear of Lee's army, south of Richmond. Three days were occu- 
pied in this marvellous feat. A more brilliant achievement the 
war had not witnessed. 

In the presence of a foe equal in numbers, whose valor could 
scarcely be exceeded, led by generals as able as the nineteenth 
century could furnish. Gen. Grant conducted an army of one 
hundred and fifty thousand men a distance of fifty-five miles by a 
flank march, and across two wide rivers, without the loss of a 
wagon or a gun. It was on Wednesday morning, the 15th of 
June, that the advance corps crossed James River, and effected a 
junction with Gen. Butler's encampment at Bermuda Hundreds. 
They then crossed the Appomattox, and, rapidly traversing its 
southern bank, commenced an attack upon Petersburg. 

Gen. Lee was appalled, as he suddenly heard the thunders of 
Gen, Grant's artillery fifty miles south of him. With a rush he 
abandoned his now useless ramparts, and by railroad and turn- 
pike hurried his army, with the utmost possible speed, to man the 
works which thousands of negro hands had been compelled to 
rear for the defence of Petersburg. A bird's-eye view of this 
scene would have presented one of the most picturesque speo 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 507 

tacles earth has witnessed. Its beauty, however wciuld have 
been lost in contemplation of its horrors, as frenzied men muti- 
lated and destroyed each other, extorting wails of anguish from 
thousands of distant homes, which, could they have been heard, 
would almost have drowned the clangor of the battle. Over a 
space forty miles long and fifteen broad, three hundred thousand 
men, in martial bands of horse and foot, with all the enginery of 
war, were sweeping to and fro in apparently inextricable confu- 
bion. Wherever the heads of the columns met, a desperate battle 
ensued. Thundering cannon and mortars hurtled shot and shell 
cnrough the air. The smoke, the flame, the roar, the turmoil, was 
as if the region were in volcanic eruption. 

Though there were many repulses, and blood flowed freely, the 
Union troops were steadily gaining. Our soldiers encountered a 
triple line of intrenchments, well manned. The outer line was 
captured, with sixteen guns and three hundred prisoners. Two 
thousand Union soldiers were struck down in killed and wounded 
that day. The rebel loss is not known. But little reliance could 
ever be placed in their statements. The Rebellion commenced in 
deceit, and was carried on in deceit until its close. The next day, 
Frida}', the battle was renewed, and raged all day long with as 
much ferocity as human desperation could inspire. Though tho 
enemy contested every foot of ground, step by step Gen. Grant 
gained upon them, until at night he had obtained a position from 
which several shells were thrown into the streets of Petersburg. 

On Saturday the antagonistic armies again grappled each other 
in death's throes. Battery answered battery. Charge succeeded 
charge. The onset of the national troops was so terrible that 
Gen. Lee was compelled to abandon his second line, and concen- 
trate all his strength for the defence of the inner series of works. 
This movement he accomplished mainly during Friday night and 
Saturday. In this thi-ee days' battle around the ramparts of 
Petersburg, we lost over ten thousand men in killed and wounded 
and missing. As the rebels fought under cover, their loss must 
have been much less. 

Petersburg, with a population of fifteen thousand, is about 
twenty-five miles south of Richmond. Its defences were found 
unexpectedly strong. The city could only be taken by siege. 
We have not space here to enter into the details of the struggle 
which ensued. There were nevermore fearless soldiers, never 



508 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

more able generals, never before such destructive enginery ol 
war. Every day was a battle. The rebels fought with courage 
which would have elicited admiration had their cause been a good 
one. But their openly-avowed object was to overthrow the Con- 
stitution of the United States, and to erect upon the ruins of our 
free institutions a government whose corner-stone should be 
sixivery. 

Gen. Grant gradually extended his lines, fighting for every 
point he gained, until he had completely invested the city on the 
south and west, cutting those railroads by which alone supplies 
could be received directly from the south. His circuitous line 
soon extended thirty miles in length. It is obvious that Gen. 
Lee, from his central position, could at his leisure mass an im- 
mense force, and strike this line upon any point. The skill with 
which Gen. Grant guarded against this danger, while at the same 
time he was incessantly attacking the foe and gaining new posi- 
tions, has placed him, in the estimation of all capable judges, among 
the most able commanders. 

'^ It is wonderful," writes the army correspondent of " Harper's 
Weekly," " how entirely the army confides in Gen. Grant. Evei'y 
soldier's tongue is full of his praises. They will tell you stories 
of his watchfulness and care ; the fearlessness and intrepidity of 
this man whose plume they delight to follow; how he is every- 
where, night and day, looking after the comfort of his men, and 
quietly prosecuting the strategic work of the campaign ; how he 
rides unexpectedly to the remote outposts, speaking a pleasant 
word to the pickets if faithfully on duty, and administering repri- 
mands if not vigilant and watchful ; how he avoids fuss and show, 
going often about with only an orderly ; how his staff, plain 
earnest men like himself, get down from their horses, that sick and 
wounded men, struggling hospital-ward, may rest their weariness 
by riding to their destination ; how, in a word, he is a thoughtful, 
resolute, kind man, sympathizing with the humblest soldier in his 
ranks, penetrated with a solemn appreciation of the work given 
him to do, and determined by Heaven's help to do it right on the 
line he has occupied." 

Days, weeks, months ensued, of herculean labors and struggles 
between the beleaguered and beleaguering hosts. Every day ter- 
rific blows were struck by the assailants. Every day these blows 
were returned by the assailed. Shells of fearful explctsive power 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 509 

were thrown by day and by night into the doom3d city. Streets 
were torn up, mutilation and death were scattered widely around, 
houses were demolished, conflagrations enkindled. The scene at 
midnight, as viewed from some eminence, was awful in its sub- 
limity. The camp-fires of the slumbering hosts illumining the 
region for leagues around, the thunders of the heavy siege- 
guns, the shriek of the shells, the smothered roar of their distant 
explosion in the streets of Petersburg, the dense volumes of 
smoke and flame bursting from the city, and the ringing of tho 
alarm-bells borne mournfully to the ear upon the night air, all pre- 
sented a spectacle as saddening as it was sublime. Terrible as 
were these woes, they were nothing in comparison with those 
which would have resulted from the destruction of our free insti- 
tutions, the breaking up of the Union, and the anarchy and end- 
less wars which would inevitabl}"" have ensued. Our nation was 
born through the throes of the Revolution. In this its second 
birth, in the purification and regeneration of its institutions, it 
was the decree of God that the work should be accomplished 
through the ministration of suffering. 

As the weeks of battle and of blood rolled on, Gen. Grant, step 
by step, was continually approaching nearer the attainment of his 
one great end. July and August passed rapidly away. Early in 
September the army was cheered by the news that Gen. Sherman 
had taken Atlanta, and was preparing for a rapid march through 
Georgia and the Carolinas to co-operate with the army before the 
ramparts of Richmond. About this time Gen. Grant said, in one 
of his official reports to the goverment, — 

" From an early period in the Rebellion, I had been impressed 
with the idea that active and continuous operations of all the 
troops that could be brought into the field, regardless of season 
and weather, were necessary to a speedy termination of the 
war. From the first, I was firm in the conviction that no peace 
could be had that would be stable, and conducive to the happiness 
of the people, both North and South, until the military power of 
the Rebellion was entirely broken. I therefore determined, first, 
to use the greatest number of troops practicable against the armed 
force of the enemy, preventing him from vising the same force at 
different seasons, against first one and then another of our armies, 
and from the possibility of repose for refitting and producing 
necessary supplies for carrying on resistance ; second, to hammer 



510 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

continually against the armed force of the enemy, and his resources, 
until, by mei3 attrition, if in no other way, there should be 
nothing left to him but an equal submission, with the loyal section 
of our common country, to the Constitution and laws of the hmd." 

Still the months rolled on, with bombardments, avid exploding 
mines, and raids, and charges, and fierce battles, each day number" 
ing its multitude of victims. Gen. Grant, in this great struggle, 
was continually advancing, and seldom losing any position he once 
had gained. The latter part of December, the cheering tiding;? 
reached the army that Gen. Sherman had achieved his sublime 
march to Savannah. With sixty thousand men, three thousand 
five hundred baggage-wagons, and thirty-five thousand draught- 
horses, in addition to his cavalry, he had swept across the State in 
a path sixty miles wide and three hundred miles long, destroying 
every thing which could assist the rebels in carrying on the war. 

In a march of twenty-four days, with a loss of but five hundred 
and sixty-seven men. Gen. Sherman had routed the foe wherever 
met, had captured thirteen hundred and thirty-eight rebel soldiers, 
had taken thirteen thousand head of beef cattle, over nine million 
pounds of corn, and ten millions of fodder. Foragers in great 
numbers had been sent out daily to gather from the plantations 
every variety of supplies for the hungry army, — sheep, swine, 
turkeys, geese, chickens, and rice. Five thousand horses and 
four thousand mules were impressed into the service of the troops. 
Three hundred and twenty miles of railway were destroyed. The 
ties were burned, the rails twisted, the depots laid in ashes. Thua 
the rebel armies in the south-west were effectually cut off by a 
barrier of desolation from communication with the troops of Lee 
in Richmond. 

Thus closed the year 1864. The cause of the Rebellion was 
hopeless. And now Gen. Sherman turned his triumphant columns 
towards the north. In resistless march he swept through the 
States of South and North Carolina, driving the rebels before him, 
and capturing every important place till he met the banners of 
Gen. Sheridan's cavalry and Gen. Schofield's divisions, sent to 
Goldsborough to greet him. The two armies were thus united. 
Gen. Sherman immediately repaired to the headquarters of Gen. 
Grant. It was the 29th of March, 1865. 

Gen. Grant's lines of investment extended forty miles, from the 
north side of the James to Hatchie's Run. The great fear now 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 511 

was that Lee, with his army, might attempt to escape, and elFect 
a junction with Gen. Johnston, who had an army of infantry 
and cavah'y at Raleigh, N.C., numbering about fifty thousand. 
These united armies, falling suddenly on Sherman's troops, might 
crush them. Gen. Grant watched the foe with a sleepless eye, pre- 
pared to assail him with his whole force as soon as he should 
eee any indications that he was about 'to abandon his works. 

On Friday, the last day of March, there were decisive indica- 
tions of a movement. The whole national army was at once 
hurled upon the rebel lines. For three days the battle raged 
with determination, on each side, never exceeded during any 
period of the war. In the night of the 3d of April, Lee, con- 
scious that he could not resist the assault of another day, fled with 
the bleeding, shattered remnants of his army. As the national 
troops, in the early dawn of the next morning, rushed into the 
unoccupied trenches, the joyful tidings ran along the wires 
through the whole length and breadth of the land, — 

" Richmond and Petersburg are ours. A third part of Lee's 
army is destroyed. For the remainder there is no escape." 

The rebels were hotly pursued. The roads along which they 
fled were strewed with the debris of a demoralized and fugitive 
host. Many prisoners were taken. In anticipation of this flight, 
Gen. Grant had placed the Fifth Corps in such a position that, 
by a rapid march, it was thrown in front of the foe, and thus 
eff"ectually cut off his retreat. The rebel army was now at our 
mercy. Throughout the whole conflict there had been great sym- 
pathy felt in the North for the common soldiers of the rebel army, 
composed of very ignorant men, who had been deluded or forced 
into the ranks. Sympathy for them led Gen. Grant magnanimous- 
ly to make the first advances, and to urge Gen. Lee to spare him 
the pain of destroying these misguided men. The rebel troops 
were so surrounded, and so exposed to the fire of many batteries, 
that a battle-storm of bullets, shot, and shell, would, in a few 
hours, cover the plain with their corpses. It was the 9th of 
April, Gen. Grant sent the following despatch to Lee : — 

" The result of the last week must convince you of the hope, 
lessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of North- 
ern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it 
as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any further 
effusion of blood, by asking of you the surrender of that portion 



t)12 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

of the Confederate Army known as the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia.'' 

To Gen. Lee's inquiry, respecting the terms of surrender 
which would be accepted, Gen. Grant replied, — 

"Peace being my first desire, there is but one condition I insist 
upon, namely, that the men surrendered shall be disqualified 
for taking up arms against the government of the United States 
until properly exchanged.'" 

Gen. Lee, assuming that he was not placed in an emergence 
which required surrender, but that he was still able to carry on 
the war, proposed an interview, that he and Gen. Grant might 
talk over the matter of the " restoration of peace." Gen. Grant's 
prompt reply indicates the clearness of his views respecting the 
only responsibilities which devolved upon him : — 

" As I have no authority," he said, " to treat on the subject of 
peace, the meeting proposed could lead to no good. I will state, 
however, general, that I am equally anxious for peace with your- 
self; and the whole North entertains the same feeling. The 
terms upon which peace may be had are well understood. By 
the South laying down their arms, they will hasten that most de- 
sirable event, save thousands of human lives, and hundreds of 
millions of property not yet destroyed. Sincerely hoping that all 
our difficulties may be settled without the loss of another life, I 
subscribe myself, 

" Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

" U. S. Geant." 

Having despatched this letter, Gen. Grant lost not a moment in 
waiting for a reply, but pressed forward his preparations to de- 
stroy the army if surrender were refused. Gen. Lee saw clearly 
that with such a man it was in vain to attempt to parley. He 
consented to an interview to arrange for a surrender. The terms 
of Gen. Grant were very simple and decisive. All the rebel offi- 
cers and men were to give their parole not to serve against the 
United States until exchanged. All the materiel of war was to be 
given up. The officers could retain their side-arms, horses, and 
baggage. These terms were signed at half past three in the after- 
noon of April the 9th. The rebel troops were then upon a plain, 
surrounded by the batteries of the national army. The tiding? 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 513 

of the capitulation first reached the ears of the rebels. It was to 
them deliverance from slaughter. Cheer upon cheer burst from 
their exhausted ranks. Their shouts conveyed the tidings to our 
army, and were echoed back in heartfelt hurrahs, till over all the 
embattled hills and plain the voices of friend and foe blended in 
the joyful cry. Large bands of the Union army, pressing forward 
from the rear, one after another cauglit the shout, and, learning 
its significance, sent it along to those behind in reverberating 
peals. 

It was now certain thit the spirit of rebellion was effectually 
trampled down. Johnston's condition was hopeless. He could 
be instantly crushed between the armies of Grant and Sherman. 
Uo surrendered. All the scattered rebel bands soon did the same, 
or dispersed. Thousands threw down their arms, and fled to their 
homes. The number surrendered amounted to 174,223. We had 
also then on hand rebel prisoners to the amount of 98,802. Jef- 
ferson Davis endeavored, with a small cavalry escort, to escape to 
some southern seaport, whence he hoped to take ship for foreign 
lands. On the 10th of May he was captured ut Irwinsville, in 
Georgia. The war was ended. The Union was saved. The 
almost unanimous voice of the nation declared Gen. Grant to be the 
most prominent instrument in its salvation. The eminent ser- 
vices he had thus rendered the country brought him conspicu- 
ously forward as the Republican candidate for the presidential 
chair. 

On the 21st of May, 1868, the Republican Convention, assemblo'.l 
at Chicago, adopted a series of resolutions, a platform, so called, 
of the principles of the party. The essential points were, that 
equal civil and political rights should be secured to all; that Con- 
gress should guarantee equal suffrage to all loyal men at the 
South; and that all forms of repudiation were to be denounced as 
•a national crime. The following very important article was also 
added to their platform : — 

"We profoundly deplore the untimely and tragic death of Abra- 
ham Lincoln, and regret the accession to the presidency of 
Andrew Johnson, who has acted treacherously to the people who 
elected him, and to the cause which he was pledged to support; 
who has usurped high legislative and judicial functions ; who has 
refused to execute the laws; who has used his high office to induce 
other officers to ignore and violate the laws; who has employed 

65 



514 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

bis executive powers to reuder insecure the property, the peacej 
liberty, and life of the citizen; who has abused the pardoning 
power; who has denounced the national legislature as unconstitu- 
tional; who has persistently and corruptly resisted, by every 
means in his power, every proper attempt at the reconstruction 
of the States lately in rebellion ; who has perverted the public 
patronage into an engine of wholesale corruption ; and who has 
been justly impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors, and 
properly pronounced guilty thereof by the vote of thirty-five 
senators." 

This platform having been accepted, Ulysses S. Grant was 
nominated to the Convention as the candidate of the Republican 
party for the chief magistracy. The vote was taken. In the fol- 
lowing terms it was announced : — 

" Gentlemen of the Convention, you have six hundred and fifty 
votes ; and you have given six hundred and fifty votes for Gen. 
Ulysses S. Grant." 

The enthusiasm inspired by this announcement, in the vast 
Opera-House where the Convention was held, cannot be described. 
As soon as it had in some degree subsided, the Hon. Schuy- 
ler Colfax of Indiana was nominated for the vice-presidenc3^ 
After a few ballotings, he was unanimously elected. 

With this platform, Gen. Grant and Mr. Colfax were submitted 
to the suffrages of the people of the United States. In accepting 
the nomination, Gen. Grant, after expressing his cordial approval 
of the platform, said, — 

" If elected to the office of President of the United States, it 
will be my endeavor to administer all the laws in good faith, with 
economy, and with the view of giving peace, quiet, and pro- 
tection everywhere. In times like the present it is impossible, o» 
at least eminently improper, to lay down a policy to be adhered tc, 
right or wrong, through an administration of four years. New 
political issues, not foreseen, are constantly arising; the views of 
the public on old ones are constantly changing; and a purely ad- 
ministrative officer should always be left free to execute the will 
of the people. I always have respected that will, and always 
shall. Peace and universal prosperity, its sequence, with econo- 
my of administration, will lighten the burden of taxation, while it 
constantly reduces the national debt. Let us have peace." 
Gov. Horatio Seymour of New York was the candidate of 



ULYSSES s. gran:?. 515 

the Democratic party. The election was hotly contested. In the 
popular vote, there were 5,922,984 votes cast. Of these, Grant 
received 3,016,353. Seymour received 2,906,631. Grant's ma- 
jority was 109,722. Thirty-four States cast their votes for elect- 
ors. Three, unreconstructed, did not vote. Twenty-six of the 
States gave their electoral votes, numbering 214, for Grant. 
Eight cast their votes, counting 80, for Seymour. Thus, in 
accordance with the provisions of the Constitution, it was an- 
nounced that Ulysses S. Grant was elected President of the United 
States by a majority of 134 electoral votes. 

On the 4th of March, 1869, Gen. Grant entered upon the duties 
of his ofiSce under the most flattering circumstances. The oppos- 
ing party cordially concurred in the election. All the billows 
which the tempest of war had raised were rapidly subsiding. 
The country was in a state of extraordinary prosperity. Nearly 
all the serious questions which had hitherto divided the parties 
were settled. 

No one can occupy a post of influence and power without 
exciting obloquy. It is the inevitable penalty of office. None 
of our presidents have been more fiercely assailed than were 
George Washington and Thomas Jefferson ; and yet there is no 
candid man now who will not admit that they were both pure 
patriots, honestly and earnestly seeking the best good of the 
country. President Grant took his seat in the presidential chair 
just after the close of one of the most terrible civil wars which 
ever, with its earthquake throes, agitated any nation. The 
difficulties which pressed upon him were greater than any of his 
predecessors had ever encountered. No mortal wisdom could 
have marked out any measures which would have met with 
universal approval. 

The Southern States were thrown into a chaotic condition. 
Their peculiar institutions, which had separated them from the 
North, had perished forever. To make us a homogeneous repub- 
lic, where equal rights for all men should be universally respected, 
it was needful that several million illiterate slaves, entirely un- 
accustomed to self-government, should be elevated to the dignity 
of citizens. This could not be accomplished without great diffi- 
culty. It was one of the most perplexing of political problems. 
When the passions of the present hour shall have passed away, 
no candid mind will doubt that President Grant, embracing in 



516 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

his patriotism all sections of the country alike, has acted iu ac- 
cordance with his most deliberate judgment for the good of all. 

The National Convention of the Republican party, which met 
at Philadelphia on the 5th of June, 1872, placed Gen. Grant in 
nomination for a second term by a unanimous vote. The selec- 
tion was emphatically indorsed by the people five months later, 
two hundred and ninety-two electoral votes being cast for his 
re-election, — the largest number ever given for a presidential 
candidate. 

Soon after the close of his second term General Grant decided 
to visit the countries of the old world, and started from America, 
expecting to travel quietly and privately for a year or two. But 
from the time when he landed at Liverpool, until he reached his 
home at Galena, 111., his trip was an unceasing ovation. Eng- 
land, France, Germany, Russia, Austria, Switzerland, B( giuni, 
Itah^, Turkey, India, and China endeavored each to outao the 
other in the heartiness and display of their receptions. In his 
course, making the complete circuit of the globe, his appearance 
was the signal for almost unheard-of enthusiasm. 

After his return he was again pressed by his ardent admirers 
to be a candidate for the Presidency of the United States ; but 
party divisions and short-sighted movements on the part of his 
friends prevented his nomination in the party convention at Chi- 
cago. He has since been engaged in various business enterprises, 
and is at present an active participant in the efforts being made 
to open an inter-oceanic canal between the Atlantic Ocean and 
the Pacific Ocean, across the Isthmus of Panama. He is also 
engaged in the promotion of various railroad enterprises intended 
for the development of Mexico and the Southwestern Territories 
of the United States. 




JZ^.H^^ 



CHAPTER XIX. 

RUTHERFOED BmCHAKD HArES. 

Birth. — Ancestry. — Childhood. —College Days. — Two Years in the Cambridge 
Law School. — Practice of the Law. — Ciucinnari Literary Club. — City Solicitor. — 
Military Services, Battles, and Wounds. — Election to Congress. — Three tiraea 
Governor of Ohio. — Elected President. 

Rutherford Blrchard Hayes was born in Delaware, O., 
Oct. 4, 1822, less than three months after the death of his father, 
Rutherford Hayes. His ancestry, both on the paternal antl 




PKIVATE IIESLDENCE OF R. B. HAYES, FKEMONT, O. 



maternal side, was of the most honorable character. It can be 
traced, it is said, as far back as 12S0, when Hayes and Rutherford 
were two Scottish chieftains, fighting side by side with Baliol, 

517 



518 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

"William Wallace, and Robert Bruce. Both families belonged to 
the nobility, owned extensive estates, and had a large follow- 
ing. The Hayes family had for a coat-of-arms, a shield, barred, 
and surmounted by a flying eagle. There was a circle of stara 
about the eagle and above the shield ; while on a scroll under- 
neath the shield was inscribed the motto, " Recte." Misfortune 
overtaking the family, George Hayes left Scotland in 1680, and 
settled in Windsor, Conn. He was an industrious worker in wood 
and iron, having a mechanical genius, and a cultivated mind. 
His son George was born in Windsor, and remained there during 
his life. Daniel Hayes, son of the latter, married Sarah Lee, and 
lived from the time of his marriage until his death in Simsbury, 
Conn. Ezckicl, son of Daniel, was born in 1724, and was a manu- 
facturer of scythes at Bradford, Conn. Rutherford Hayes, son 
of Ezekiel and grandfather of President Playes, was born in New 
Haven iq^ August, 1756. He was a farmer, blacksmith, and 
tavern-keeper. He emigrated to Vermont at an unknown date, 
settling in Brattleborough, where he established a hotel. Here his 
son Rutherford Hayes, the father of President Hayes, was born. 
He was married, in September, 1813, to Sophia Birchard of Wil- 
mington, Vt., whose ancestors emigrated thither from Connecti- 
cut, they having been among the wealthiest and best families of 
Norwich. Her ancestry on the male side is traced back to 1635, 
to John Birchard, one of the principal founders of Norwich. 
Both of her grandfathers were soldiers in the Revolutionary 
War. 

The father of President Hayes was an industrious, frugal, 
and open-hearted man. He was of a mechanical turn, and could 
mend a plough, knit a stocking, or do almost any thing else that 
he chose to undertake. As he was a feeble boy, his father pro- 
cured for him a situation as clerk in a store, and afterwards assisted 
him to open a store *of his own in Brattleborough. He was pros- 
perous in his business, having the confidence and the good-will of 
all who knew him. He was a member of the church, active in 
all the benevolent enterprises of the town, and conducted his 
business on Christian principles. After the close of the war of 
1812, for reasons inexplicable to his neighbors, he resolved to 
emigrate to Ohio. It seemed strange that a man so prosperous 
should be willing to leave a place where he was enjoying all the 
social, moral, and religious influences of a well-ordered commu- 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 519 

uity, to make Ms home in a wilderness ; but the fever of Western 
emigration was as potent in that day as it is now, and he yielded 
to an impulse keenly felt but little understood. The journey 
from Vermont to Ohio in that day, when there were neither 
canals, steamers, nor railways, was a very serious affair. A tour 
of inspection was first made, occupying four months. Mr. Hayes 
purchased a farm near the present town of Delaware, and, on his 
return to Brattleborough, announced his intention of removing 
thither with his family, which consisted then of his wife and two 
children, and an orphan girl whom he had adopted. Having dis 
posed of his property in Brattleborough, Mr. Hayes and his fam 
ily, accompanied by Sardis Birchard, a younger brother of Mrs. 
Hayes, set out upon their Western journey in a covered wagon, 
in which were stored all the household goods reserved from sale, 
and nearly all the food they expected to need on the way. They 
travelled by day, and slept at night in that tented conveyance, 
passing now through dense forests, now over deep streams, and 
encountering fierce storms. The orphan girl is the only survi- 
vor of the party ; and her story of that forty days and nights of 
travel and peril would furnish materials for a stirring romance. 

It was in 1817 that the family arrived at Delaware. Mr. 
Hayes, instead of settling upon his farm on the Olentangy River, 
concluded to enter into business in the village. He purchased an 
interest in a distillery, a business then as respectable as it was 
profitable. His capital and recognized ability and character in- 
sured him the highest social position in the community. His ad- 
vice was sought in all public affairs ; he was one of the first and 
largest contributors to the fund for the erection of a Presbyte- 
rian church, a generous supporter of schools, and active in every 
movement for the intellectual and moral improvement of society. 
He died July 22, 1822, a victim of malarial pestilence, less than 
three months before the birth of the son who now fills the office 
of President of the United States. Mrs. Hayes, in her sore be- 
reavement, found the support she so much needed in her brother 
Sardis, who had been a member of the household from the day of 
its departure from Vermont, and in the orphan girl whom she 
hadado pted so long before as an act of charity. Her brother 
was a noble young man. For five years he had been to her as a 
son, and had received from her much of that enthusiasm and 
social education which served him so well in his subsequent 



520 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

remarkable career. And noAv, in her great sorrow, she was 
rew^ardecl for her care and devotion. The young man made it the 
great object of his life to care for his sister and her cliildren ; and 
his aid at this crisis in their history was of the greatest value to 
them all. 

Mrs. Hayes at this period was very weak, and the subject of 
this sketch Avas so feeble at birth that he was not expected to 
live beyond a month or two at most. As the months went by 
he grew weaker and weaker, so that the neighbors were in the 
habit of inquiring from time to time " if Mrs. Hayes's baby died 
last night." On one occasion a neighbor, who was on familiar 
terms with the family, after alluding to the boy's big head, and 
the mother's assiduous care of him, said in a bantering way to 
her, " That's right ! Stick to him. You have got him along so 
far, and I shouldn't wonder if he would really come to something 

yet." 

" You need not laugh," said Mrs. Hayes. " You wait and see. 
You can't tell but I shall make him President of the United 
States yet." 

The boy lived in spite of the universal predictions of his 
speedy death ; and when, in 1825, his older brother Avas droAvned, 
he became, if possible, still dearer to his mother. When the 
body of her oldest son Avas borne from the river to the house, 
and she felt that she had lost the main prop of her Avidowed life, 
her heart Avent out in prayer to God that the feeble little boy, 
now three years old, and her young daughter, might be spared to 
her. Her care of these jcAvels of her heart was anxious and in- 
cessant. In her Avatchfulness she gave herself no rest, and was 
.hardly willing for years that little Rutherford should go beyond 
her sight. 

The boy was seven years old before he Avent to school. Plis 
education, however, was not neglected. He probably learned 
as much from his mother and sister as he Avould have done at 
school. Plis sports were almost Avholly within doors, his play- 
mates being his sister and her associates. These circumstances 
tended, no doubt, to foster that gentleness of disposition, and 
that delicate consideration for the feelings of others, which are 
marked traits of his character. The boys of that period, espe- 
cially those upon the frontiers of civilization, were too often rude 
and coarse, though not necessarily lacking in more manly quab 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 521 

ities. If young Hayes, on account of his sheltered life, lacked 
something of the robustness and fiery energy of other boys, he 
was saved from the little vices and almost brutal habits which 
too often exhibit themselves at that period of life. At school he 
was ardently devoted to his studies, obedient to the teacher, and 
careful to avoid the quarrels in which many of his schoolmates 
were involved. He was always waiting at the schoolhouse door 
when it opened in the morning, and never late in returning to 
his seat at recess. As a playmate he was unselfish and generous, 
and in all his intercourse with others frank, and without deceit or 
guile ; and, if teachers praised him as a model boy, his modesty 
and bashfulness saved him from any false pride on that account. 
His sister Fannie was his constant companion, and their affection 
for each other excited the admiration of their friends. 

His uncle Sardis Birchard took the deepest interest in his edu- 
cation ; and as the boy's health had much improved, and he was 
making good progress in his studies, he proposed to send him to 
college. His preparations began with a tutor at home ; but he 
was afterwards sent for one year to a professor in the Wesleyan 
University, in Middletown, Conn. He entered Kenj^on College 
in 1838, at the age of sixteen, and was graduated at the head of 
his class in 1842. His college life was quiet and studious. He 
was involved in no college "scrapes," but was a favorite with 
his fellow-students and with the faculty. On one occasion his 
timely and sensible advice saved a classmate from foolishly pro- 
voking expulsion. Tliis classmate had played a practical joke, 
which gave great o&ence to the faculty. He was able and bril- 
liant, and had much influence with his fellow-students. He was 
required to make confession of his fault, and ask forgiveness 
therefor, before the students assembled at prayers. An indigna- 
tion meeting of his class was held, and resolutions were intro- 
duced, and speeches made, extolling the " martyr " who would 
sacrifice himself to " vindicate his honor." They told him not 
to yield. Death before such dishonor! The tide was all running 
one way, when young Haj^es had the good sense and the courage 
to attempt to stem the flood. These, as nearly as his classmates 
can now recall them, are the words he spoke : — 

" Fellows, this IS all a mistake. It cannot be that j-ou have stopped to 
think. Xow, I know well what I would do if I had been caught in such a 
Bcrape, and had received such a proposition from the faculty : I should not 



522 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

wait a single hour before I went and asked their forgiveness. I tell you, 
fellows, we have friends at home who care nothing about our codes of honor, 
but to whom our disgrace would bring great sorrow. I would not put them 
to shame by refusing to do such a little thing as confessing publicly to the 
truth. If he did wrong, he ought to confess it. If it was not wrong in itself, 
but is so held by the faculty, it can do no harm to tell the truth about it, and 
say he is sorry that he did it. I tell you, boys, it would be foolish to accept 
a lasting disgrace rather than acknowledge such a little shortcoming as that. 
If he does not do what the professors ask of him, he is a very foolish young 
man, and will regret it, and his family will regret it, down to his dying 
day." 

This sensible and courageous speech changed the whole current 
of opinion in the class; the inculpated student accepted the 
advice thus given, and the threatened rebellion was over. That 
student is now one of the most honored and distinguished men in 
Ohio, and a warm friend of President Hayes. 

Immediately after his graduation, Hayes began the study of the 
law in the offlce of Thomas Sparrow, Esq., in Columbus. His 
health was now well established; his figure robust, his muscu- 
lar and nervous forces strong, his mind vigorous and alert. 
Destitute of the showy qualities which so often force young 
men into a prominence entirely beyond their merits, he was 
thorough in all his work. He never was satisfied with a super- 
ficial knowledge of any thing, but went to the bottom of every 
question that arose in studying for his chosen profession. Find- 
ing his opportunities for study in Columbus somewhat limited, he 
determined to enter the Law School at Cambridge, Mass., where he 
remained two years, pursuing his studies so diligently and quiet- 
ly that he hardly attracted the notice of his more ambitious 
fellow-students. 

In 1845, after graduating at the Law School, he was admitted 
to the bar at Marietta, O., and shortly afterward went into prac- 
tice as an attorney-at-law with Ealph P. Buckland of Fre- 
mont. Here he remained three years, acquiring but a limited 
practice, and apparently unambitious of distinction in his profes- 
sion. His bachelor uncle, Sardis Birchard, was now a wealthy 
banker, and it was understood that the young man would be his 
heir. It is possible that this expectation may have made Mr. 
Hayes more indifferent to the attainment of wealth by his own 
efforts than he would otherwise have been. But, if his ambition 
was checked by this means, he was led into no extravagance, still 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 623 

less into any of the vices that so often work the ruin of young 
men prospectively rich. 

In 1849 he removed to Cincinnati, where his ambition found 
a new stimulus. For several years, however, .his progress was 
slow. His diligence, promptness, and accuracy in all matters 
intrusted to his care, won the confidence of those who employed 
him, and finally brought him into prominence. Two events, 
occurring at this period, had a powerful influence upon his subse- 
quent life. One of these was his marriage to Miss Lucy Ware 
Webb, daughter of Dr. James Webb of Chillicothe; the other 
was his introduction to the Cincinnati Literary Club, a body 
embracing among its members such men as Chief Justice Salmon 
P. Chase, Gen. John Pope, Gov. Edward F. Noyes, and many 
others hardly less distinguished in after-life. There is no more 
powerful stimulus to a young man's ambition than the love of a 
noble and pure-hearted woman ; and Mr. Hayes, from the moment 
of his engagement, began to show the sterling stuff of which he 
was made. The marriage was a fortunate one in every respect, 
as everybody knows. Not one of all the wives of our Presidents 
was more universally admired, reverenced, and beloved, than is 
Mrs. Hayes, and no one has done more than she to reflect honor 
upon American womanhood. The Literary Club brought Mr. 
Hayes into constant association with young men of high character 
and noble aims, and lured him to display the qualities so long hid- 
den by his bashfulness and modesty. His acquaintance was rap- 
idly extended, and he began to take a high position at the bar. 
Important cases were confided to his car«, and his professional 
business became absorbing and profitable. One of the most 
noted murder cases ever tried in Ohio was carried through by 
him in a masterly manner, drawing to him wide attention, and 
winning for him the applause of some of the most eminent men 
in the State. He was always ready to undertake the defence of 
the fugitive slave, or of any other oppressed and friendless 
person. 

In 1856 he was nominated to the office of judge of the Court 
of Common Pleas; but he declined to accept the nomination. 
Two years later, the office of city solicitor becoming vacant, the 
City Council elected him for the unexpired term. It was only 
after much urging that he consented to serve. He performed the 
duties of the office so acceptably that he was chosen for a full 



524 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

term at the next election, running over five hundred votes ahead 
of his ticket. At the next election he was defeated under cir- 
cumstances which implied no censure or loss of personal pop 
ularity. 

In 1861, when the Rebellion broke out, he was at the zenith of 
a professional life. His rank at the bar was among the first. 
But the news of the attack on Fort Sumter found him eager to 
take up arms for the defence of his country. The Cincinnati 
Literary Club, of which he was now a leading member, organized 
a military company from its own ranks, giving it the name of the 
" Burnett Rifles." Thirty-five of the members of this company 
were lawyers, of whom twenty-three became officers in the Union 
army, and several of the number generals. Not less than sev- 
enty-five commissioned officers were furnished by the club. In 
all the meetings Mr. Hayes took an active and zealous part. On 
the 4th of January, 1861, he wrote a letter in which he said, — 

" South Carolina has passed a secession ordinance, and Federal laws are set 
at nought in the State. Overt acts enough have been committed, forts and 
arsenals having been taken, a revenue cutter seized, and Major Anderson 
besieged at Fort Sumter, Other cotton States are about to follow. Disunion 
and civil war are at hand; and yet I fear disunion and war less than compro- 
mise. Wo can recover fi'om them. The free States alone, if we must go oa 
alone, will make a glorious nation. I do not feel gloomy when I look forward. 
The reality is less frightful than the apprehension which we have all had 
these many years. Let us be temperate, calm, and just, but firm and resolute. 
Crittenden's compromise ! Windham, speaking of the rumor that Bonaparte 
was about to invade England, said, ' The danger of invasion is by no means 
equal to that of peace. A man may escape a pistol, no matter how near his 
head, but not a dose of poison.' " 

When the three-months troops were called for, Mr. Hayes 
, thought it a mistake to organize a military force for so short a 
period, for he foresaw a long and bloody struggle. Soon after 
the massacre of Massachusetts troops in Baltimore, he enlisted 
for the whole war, declaring that he should prefer to go into it 
if he knew he was to die or be killed before the end, rather than 
to live through and after it without taking any part in it. He 
and his friend the Hon. Stanley Matthews together tendered 
their services to Gov. Dennison, and were accepted. The gov- 
ernor wished to place each of them in command of a regiment ; 
but they objected to this, insisting that the colonel should be an 
experienced officer, who would teach his subordinates their 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 525 

duties. As they did not wish to be separated, INIatthews was 
commissioned as lieutenant-colonel, and Hayes as major, of the 
Twenty-third Ohio Volunteers, W. S. Rosecrans being appointed 
colonel. Before the regiment was called into the field, however. 
Col. Rosecrans was promoted to a brigadier-general, and another 
graduate of West Point, Col. Scammon, was commissioned in his 
place. The regiment was placed on garrison duty at Clarksburg, 
W. Va., to protect the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, and defend 
the border from raids. Gen. Rosecrans was in command of the 
post. The Twenty-third was not allowed much ease, being often 
sent upon expeditions against the raiders and bushwhackers that 
infested the region. Major Hayes was often connected with 
these expeditions ; but in the more inactive months of the sum- 
mer (1861), he served on Gen. Rosecrans' staff as judge-advocate, 
— a thankless ofQce, the duties of which he fulfilled with such 
impartiality as to earn the praise of all with whom ho had to 
deal. He rejoined his regiment before the battle of Carnifex 
Ferry. The regiment, however, did not participate in that bat- 
tle, though a portion thereof was employed, under the lead of 
Major Hayes, in making a flank movement to threaten the ene- 
my's rear. In the latter part of September the regiment went 
into camp with the army at Mount Sewall, in front of Lee ; but 
the bad weather and worse roads compelled both armies to fall 
back ; and the Twenty -third took up its quarters at Camp Ewing, 
near Point Lookout, Va. In October, Lieut.-Col. Matthews hav- 
ing been assigned to the post of colonel of the Fifty-first Ohio 
Regiment, Major Hayes was promoted to the vacancy thus cre- 
ated, and, in consequence of the absence of Col. Scammon, took 
command of the Twenty-third. The regiment passed the winter 
of 1861-62 in scouting over the mountains and raiding into the 
interior of Virginia. There was more marching than fighting in 
these expeditions, but Lieut.-Col. Hayes had several narrow 
escapes from death. At one time he fell into an ambuscade, from 
which he escaped without injury, exhibiting a coolness and brave- 
ry under fire that greatly increased his popularity with the regi- 
ment. On the 1st of May he led an assault upon the enemy's 
garrison at Princeton, a point of considerable strategic impor- 
tance. So unexpected and impetuous was the charge, that the 
rebels fled at the first fire, leaving their arms and ammunition 
behind them. 



626 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Ten days later Lieut.-Col. Hayes had his first experience 
of manoeuvring troops under fire. He was stationed at Giles 
Court House, and had under his command nine companies of the 
Twenty-third, five hundred cavalry, and a section of light artil- 
lery, when a force of the enemy, numbering nearly four thousand, 
and commanded by Gen. Heath, made an attack upon the place. 
It would have been a foolhardy undertaking to defend the unfor- 
tified place against so large a force ; to escape capture was the 
utmost that could be done. Lieut.-Col. Hayes comprehended the 
situation at a glance, and went about his task coolly and deliber- 
ately. He was so prompt and unconcerned in his movements 
that his forces were inspired with courage. The men cheered, 
and tossed their hats, in their enthusiasm, whenever he passed by. 
For more than five miles they retreated, keeping the foe at a 
safe distance by their skirmishers, until at last, with but slight 
loss, they entered the fortifications of the main army. The men 
suffered much from hunger and fatigue. Lieut.-Col. Hayes was 
slightly wounded by a piece of shell, and his competency as a 
commander was thoroughly proved. 

On the 13th of July, the Twenty-third, being encamped on 
Flat Top Mountain, was ordered to report at Green INIeadows, 
on New River ; from which place they were hurried, Aug. 15, to 
Camp Piatt, on the Kanawha. From this point they were taken 
in transports to the Ohio, and up that river to Parkersburg, 
where they took the cars for Washington, arriving there on the 
24th. Early in August, Lieut.-Col. Hayes was promoted to be 
colonel of the Seventy-ninth Ohio Regiment, but he could not 
bear to leave his comrades of the Twenty-third to go among 
strangers. It was at this time that Lee crossed into Maryland, 
and Hayes resolved that he would remain with his regiment 
until after the impending struggle. The regiment was incor- 
porated in Gen. J. D. Cox's division of Burnside's command, in 
the Army of the Potomac, and ordered into Maryland. 

We cannot tell, at length, the story of Lee's invasion and of 
his repulse by the Union forces. The first battle in that great 
struggle was at South Mountain, in which Lieut.-Col. Hayes and 
his brave little regiment, reduced now to three hundred and ten 
men, took a courageous and honorable part ; and of this we must 
speak at some length. On the 13th of September, Lee with 
sixty thousand men crossed the South Mountain range, at 



RUTHERFORD BTRCHARB HATES. 527 

Turner's Gap, leaving his rear guard of five brigades, under 
Gen. Hill, to defend that pass, and hold the top of the mountain 
until Gen. McLaws could have time to capture Harper's Ferry, 
and join the main army at Hagerstown. The Twenty-third 
Ohio formed a part of the advance of the Union forces, en- 
camped at Middletown, on whom devolved the duty of making 
the first movement upon the enemy's stronghold. It was seven 
o'clock in the morning when the order came to move up the 
mountain toward Turner's Gap, keeping well out to the right and 
left of the Boonsborough road, the only highway leading to the 
Gap. A detachment of Pleasanton's cavalry moved up the road, 
closely followed by a light battery, and the Twenty-third Ohio, 
together with several other regiments of Cox's command. It was 
not long before the clambering troops began to see little whiffs 
of white smoke in the edge of the woodland above them ; then 
came the hum of bullets high over their heads, closely followed 
by the reports of muskets, indicating that they were approaching 
the enemy's skirmish lines. As they drew still nearer, and 
began to advance in line of battle, over stumps, bowlders, fences, 
trees, through ravines, and over knolls, the mountain-side became 
steeper ; the cracking of musketry more incessant ; while the 
bursting of shells, and hissjng of solid shot, made the air over- 
head vocal with hideous, blood-curdling sounds. 

The effort of Gen. Cox's division to turn the enemy's flank 
was resisted by Gen. Garland, with his brigade of veterans ; and 
when that brave Confederate officer was killed, and his troops 
almost annihilated by the impetuous charges and steady firing of 
the Union forces. Gen. Longstreet confronted the victors with 
fresh troops, three lines deep, intrenched behind logs, stone 
walls, trees, and bowlders. As Col. Scammon's brigade, in which 
was the Twenty-third, advanced upon the enemy, the latter 
opened fire from their artillery, posted on the knolls in the rear 
of their line of battle ; and so close was the range, and so accu- 
rate their aim, that the rebel grape, canister, and musket-balls 
literally stripped the trees of every leaf, and turned up the 
ground of the advancing soldiers as if it had been systemati- 
cally ploughed. j\Ien could not endure such a torrent. As the 
Twenty-third clambered over a rising stretch of ground in front 
of the enemy, a blinding discharge of grape-shot met them full 
in tho face ; and, in an instant, more than a hundred of them lay 



528 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

upon tlie ground, dead or wounded. Five officers were struck 
by the storm of missiles, and among them Col. Hayes went down 
with a broken arm. The brave regiment did not retreat, how- 
ever, but, obeying the orders of Major Coverly, who now assumed 
command, advanced upon the enemy. The report that their 
colonel was killed did not abate their courage. While they 
paused for re-enforcements, a dangerous flank movement of the 
enemy was discovered ; when suddenly Col. Hayes, with a hand- 
kerchief tied around his broken arm, appeared to his men, and, 
against the protests of friends, again took the lead. His return 
filled the little remnant of the regiment with great enthusiasm, 
and they fought like heroes all day. Their flag was torn to tat- 
ters, and wounds and death reduced their number to a hundred. 
Col. Hayes fought, until, fainting with loss of blood, he was car- 
ried from the field. The surgeon. Dr. Webb, his brother-in-law, 
scarcely hoped to save his life, and the colonel himself had no 
hope of saving his arm from amputation. Thore he lay through 
the eventful days of Antietam, while his decimated regiment was 
crowning itself with fresh honors. 

Mrs. Hayes, on hearing that her husband was wounded, has- 
tened to find him. The task was a difficult one, for tne wounded 
had been carried back from the field, and left indiscriminately in 
the houses, barns, and sheds for more than twenty miles to the 
rear. After searching for him in all the hospitals from Washing- 
ton to Middletown, she found him in the latter place, in an old, 
dilapidated, two-story brick building. The joy of that meeting 
may be imagined, not described. Fortunately, it was found un- 
necessary to amputate the wounded arm ; and Col. Hayes, as he 
lay there suffering from his wound, said to some Ohio gentlemen, 
who came to see him, " Tell Gov. Tod that Til he on Jiayid again 
sliortly.^'' He suffered, however, severely, and was unable to en- 
ter upon active dut}^ for several weeks. Meanwhile, Col. Scam- 
mon having been promoted to a brigadier-general, Gov. Denni- 
son revoked the commission of Col. Hayes, to command the 
Seventy-ninth, and issued a new commission to him as com- 
mander of his own brave Twenty-third. He did not, however, 
personally command the regiment in any subsequent battles, as 
he was detached from it soon after his recovery, to act as briga- 
dier-general, and (Dec. 25, 1862) placed in command of the 
celebrated Kanawha division, to which the Twenty-third was 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD UAYES. 529 

attached. From that time to the next March, Col. Hayes had a 
season of quiet, and the soldiers found at Kanawha Falls au 
opportunity to rfccuperate their wasted strength. 

On the 15th of March the division was ordered to Charleston, 
Va., from which point it made many raids into the Confederacy, 
destroying stores of salt, ammunition, clothing, and crops, and 
capturing many prisoners. In June an expedition comprising 
three brigades, one of them that of Col. Hayes, was despatched 
to South-western Virginia, with the view of capturing Saltville, 
and breaking up the Virginia & Tennessee Railway. After a 
frightfully hard march the expedition accomplished its object, 
and, returning by a tedious and difi&cult route, arrived within 
fifteen miles of Fayetteville, July 23. The expedition from the 
first had been cut off from all mail facilities, and therefore knew 
nothing of the stirring events that had happened in other de- 
partments, including the surrender of Vicksburg, the defeat of 
Lee at Gettysburg, and Morgan's raid in Ohio. Hayes rode for- 
ward to Fayetteville to obtain the news. Here he learned that 
Morgan was on that very day crossing the Scioto at Piketon, and 
making for Gallipolis, where there was no adequate force to dis- 
pute his passage of the Ohio, and protect the supplies that had 
been gathered there. Col. Hayes comprehended the situation in 
a moment, and telegraphed to the quartermaster at Charleston 
for a couple of steamers to be sent immediately to Fayetteville. 
Then, jumping into his saddle, he hastened back to camp, — a 
distance of fifteen miles, — arriving at nightfall. By consent of 
Gen. Scammon he took two regiments, and a section of artillery, 
and marched to Fayetteville in the darkness of the night. Ar- 
riving at early dawn, the steamers sent up from Charleston were 
found ready ; and the men embarked at once for the voyage to 
Gallipolis, where they arrived at daylight the next morning, and 
took positions to defend the town. But Morgan had been in- 
formed by spies of their approach, and turned his column north- 
ward toward Pomeroy. Hayes promptly re-embarked his force, 
and steamed up the river to overtake him. He arrived in time 
to dispute the passage of the rebels, who thereupon moved still 
farther up to Bufiington's Island. Here IMorgan seized a steam- 
boat, and had ferried over about three hundred of his men, 
when Col. Hayes arrived, seized the boat, and put a stop to any 
further proceedings in that line. Morgan himself had crossed 



530 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

the river ; but, seeing that his main body was to be cut off, he 
recrossed, and remained to share the fortunes of his soldiers. 
After some fighting, lie drew off again, and made for other 
points up the river, but was at length forced to surrender. 

Col. Hayes returned to Virginia immediately after the capture 
of Morgan, remaining there until April 29, 1864, when the Kan- 
awha division was ordered to join the forces gathering near 
Brownston, on the upper Kanawha River, from which point a 
raid was to be made on the Virginia &; Tennessee Railroad, in 
accordance with Gen. Grant's order for a general advance of all 
our armies. Then began a series of forced marches and hard- 
fought battles, in which Col, Hayes appeared in his conspicuous 
position as brigadier-general. The Union troops in Virginia, 
under Gen. Crook, of which Col. Hayes's brigade formed a part, 
did not exceed sixty-five hundred men. The expedition ou 
which he was sent must have seemed to him of the most des- 
perate character ; but of course he did not know that Sigel was 
moving up the Shenandoah Valley, Sherman forcing his way to 
Atlanta, Grant moving on Richmond, and almost numberless 
expeditions starting out to annoy and confuse the rebels, and 
induce them to scatter their forces. After a hard march over 
cragged mountains, in snow and ice, wading deep streams, and 
encountering many other difficulties, Gen. Crook arrived at the 
last range of hills between himself and the railroad, finding 
them formidable with fortifications. But there was no other 
course to pursue than that marked out for him ; and conse- 
quently that rocky and wooded eminence must be stormed and 
taken. It fell to Haj^es' brigade to lead the desperate assault. 
The enemy had fortified three crests or spurs of the mountain, 
one above the other, so that if he should be driven from one he 
could fall back to the next. Under the mountain was a broad 
meadow, a deep stream of water, and a rugged ascent, made 
difficult by fallen trees and hidden pits. Col. Hayes's brigade 
formed on the side of the meadow, and, at the word of com- 
mand, sprang forward at a double-quick pace, while the enemy 
opened all his batteries and musketry upon them. Col. Hayes 
led the brigade, moving about from place to place with such 
coolness and alacrity that he kept his line steady, and infused 
into the soldiers the utmost confidence in his ability to lead them 
to victory. When the meadow was passed, a short halt was 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 531 

made by the stream, to dress the line and give such necessary 
orders as the task before them seemed to demand ; and then, 
with a yell, they rushed into the brush, climbing like squirrels, 
and as fearless of the shot that riddled the trees as those animals 
would be of falling acorns. Upward they clambered in such hot 
haste, and with such an even line, that, before the enemy could 
ram home the second charge, they were swarming about the rude 
breastwork, and clubbing their empty muskets to strike down 
the gunners. Astonished and dismayed, the rebels made a hasty 
retreat, leaving behind them two handsome guns, into one of 
which a boy in the Twenty-third thrust his cap, to denote that it 
was his prize, and then ruslied on with his comrades to charge 
and capture the second "crest. The movement upon the second 
position was equally successful, and the enemy fled like sheep to 
their last stronghold. Here, being re-enforced, and knowing that 
this offered the last means of defence, they met the Union forces 
in a desperate and heroic contest, — one of the sharpest of the 
whole war. It continued but a few minutes, when the rebels, 
discouraged by the death of their leader, fled down the moun- 
tain, toward the railroad, which had been intrusted to their 
defence. Gen. Crook, fearing the enemy might attempt to erect 
new fortifications, hurried his command, and reached the railroad 
that night, destroying it for eight miles toward Lynchburg, from 
Dublin Station, and, after a short artillery battle, burned the 
long bridge over New River, thus completely and specifically 
obeying his instructions. The men were now foot-sore, bruised, 
and weak, but it was not safe for so small a force to remain lonor 
in the enemy's country, and so the return march was at once 
begun. The road lay through the most rugged and dangerous 
regions of the Alleghany Mountains, being a rocky and wild 
succession of cliffs and chasms, through which meagre roadways 
had been cut, only to be washed away by the spring freshets, 
which were then at their height. It rained continually. The 
mountain torrents raged across their paths ; men were drowned 
at the fords ; teams were carried away in the streams ; the shoes 
of the soldiers fell into pieces ; their soaked clothing was rent by 
the least strain ; their guns were rusty and unserviceable, and 
their supply of food exceedingly limited. Sometimes they met 
the enemy, and had to fight as well as climb. At last they 
reached their old camping-ground, at Meadow Bluff, from which 



532 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

point, after a short rest^ and obtaining fresh supplies, the}' 
marched to Staunton, Va., joining Hunter's army, June 8. 

In the attack on Lynchburg, June 18, and in the retreat that 
followed, Hayes's brigade bore an honorable part. When the 
retreat was ordered by Gen. Hunter, Hayes's men had been two 
days without sleep, and one day without food. The duty of 
covering the retreat fell upon them, and well was it discharged. 
On the 19th they marched and fought all day, and at night 
they had a sharp conflict with a large body of the enemy sent to 
surprise them, so that another night was passed without sleep ; 
and, as if to test their powers of endurance to the utmost, they 
had scarcely reached Buford's Gap on the morning of the 20th, 
before the enemy, in great numbers, appeared, with the evident 
purpose of securing the heights, and from them shelling the 
retreating Federals. Hayes drew up his brigade so as to cover 
the approaches to the gap, and held his position all day. At 
night, when he knew the army was far beyond the reach of rebel 
cannon, he collected his men, and hastily retreated. As his col- 
umn drew near to Salem, a body of rebels managed to outmarch 
his almost fainting men, and intercept him, wliile another vigor- 
ously pressed him in the rear. It was a situation from which 
but few leaders could have extricated such a worn, starving, 
bleeding company of men. But such was Hayes's influence over 
them, that they enthusiastically obeyed his summons to one 
more fight, and by a determined charge cleared the way to the 
camp, where at ten o'clock at night they found their first sleep 
for nearly four days. They were only half supplied with food 
until, six days later, they arrived at Big Sewall Mountain. After 
a short rest at this point, they returned to Charleston, where 
they arrived July 1. 

We next follow Hayes's brigade into the campaign of the 
Shenandoah, in which it rendered most valuable service. On the 
22d of July, being sent, with two sections of artillery, to recon- 
noitre the enemy, they were surrounded by two divisions of Con- 
federate cavalry, but fought their way out under their gallant 
leader, and returned safely to Gen. Crook's division at Winches- 
ter on the 23d. On the next day, when Crook was compelled to 
fall back before Early's whole army, the retreat was covered by 
Hayes's brigade in a masterly manner. 

Gen. Sheridan, not being ready for a general advance, em- 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 533 

ployed his forces in various movements intended to prevent Early 
from detaching any portion of his force for the assistance of Lee 
at Richmond. In these movements Hayes's brigade took a con- 
spicuous and valiant part. Often did Col. Hayes force his way 
not only through Early's formidable picket lines, but through his 
main line, compelling him to develop his full strength, and even 
to seek new positions. So bold and hazardous were these raids, 
that it was often a matter of grave doubt with officers and men, 
in setting out, whether the brigade would ever return again to 
the main body. But it always managed to get back in good 
fighting trim ; and its habitual success greatly increased the con- 
fidence of the men in themselves and their leader. 

On the 23d of August, at daylight, Early made a sudden 
attack on Sheridan's outposts at Halltown, when Hayes's brigade 
sallied out, drove in the enemy's skirmish-line, and captured a 
lot of prisoners from Kershaw's division. The captured rebels 

exclaimed in astonishment, "Who the h are you-uns?" 

The next day the brigade made another sortie, capturing sixty 
officers and one hundred men, all from Kershaw's division. 
Sept. 3, Duval's division, including Hayes's brigade, became in- 
volved in a serious engagement at Berryville. The fighting was 
desperate, resulting in victory to neither side. 

Sheridan made his grand advance against Early on the 16th of 
September. The battle of Winchester took place on the 19th. 
Col. Hayes's brigade, as a part of Gen. Crook's division, bore a 
leading part in the conflict. In the course of Crook's advance, 
it occupied the extreme right of the line, and, crossing a swampy 
stream, reached a position covered by an almost impenetrable 
growth of cedar. The command pushed on, with Hayes's 
brigade in front. The brigade advanced rapidly, covered by a 
light line of skirmisliers, driving in the enemy's cavalry. Cross- 
ing two or three open fields, exposed to a scattering fire, the 
brigade reached a slight elevation, where it came into full view 
of the enemy, who opened upon it a heavy fire of musketry and 
artillery. Col. Hayes now started his command forward on the 
double-quick, and, dashing through a thick fringe of underbrush, 
came upon a deep slough about fifty yards wide, and stretching 
nearly the whole front of his brigade. The bottom was treacher- 
ous ooze ; and the dark water, now churned with flying bullets, 
was, on the nearer side, about ten feet deep. Just beyond it 



534 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

was a rebel battery, thinly supported, the slough being itself 
deemed a sufficient protection. Col. Hayes hesitated not an 
instant. Catching the situation at a glance, he shouted, " For- 
ward ! " and spurred his horse into the horrible ditch. Horse 
and rider sank nearly out of sight ; but the horse swam until he 
struck the spongy bottom, then gave a plunge or two, and sank 
heli^lessly in the mire. Dismounting, Col. Hayes waded to the 
farther bank, beckoning Avith his cap to his soldiers, some of 
whom succeeded in joining him. Many others, in attempting to 
follow, were killed or drowned ; but enough of them passed to 
form a nucleus for the brigade ; and then, at Col. Hayes's com- 
mand, he leading, they climbed the bank, and made for the guns ; 
but the enemy succeeded in Avithdrawing the battery in time to 
prevent its capture. Col. Hayes then re-formed his brigade on 
the farther side of the slough, and resumed the advance. Soon 
after this Gen. Duval was wounded, and carried from the field, 
and the command of the division devolved upon Col. Hayes. 
The battle soon ended in the defeat of Early, who narrowly 
escaped capture. He fell back to Fisher's Hill, eight miles 
south of Winchester, where he took up a strong position. But 
Sheridan followed him up sharply, and, after another hard fight, 
drove him from the field, ]\is army a disordered mob. In this 
battle, also, Haj^es's division took a conspicuous part, leading 
successfully one of the most important movements, capturing 
many guns and hundreds of rebel soldiers. 

Nearly a month later. Early had re-organized and re-enforced 
his army, and, taking advantage of Sheridan's brief absence, he 
attacked the Union forces, flank and rear. Hayes's division was 
prompt to enter into the conflict, but was soon compelled to 
choose between retreat and capture. In the face of imminent 
peril, the division withdrew with steady lines, maintaining its or- 
ganization perfectly, and losing not so much as a tin plate. Col. 
Haj^es's superb coolness and courage, in the midst of frightful 
rout and confusion, acted like magic upon his men ; and the ex- 
ample of his division, checking each rebel onset with its firm and 
steady lines, re-animated the broken regiments, and fired them 
with its own spirit of resistance. Hayes's division, after its re- 
treat, rallied again, and saved Sheridan's headquarters train from 
capture. In this onset Haj^es's horse fell dead beneath him, and, 
by the suddenness of its fall while at full speed, threw its ridei 



RUTHERFORD BIRCIIARD HAYES. 535 

violently out of the saddle, bruising liira, and badly wrenching 
his foot and ankle. For a moment he was thought to be killed ; 
but he soon sprang to his feet, and in the midst of a shower of 
bullets from the rebels, who were almost upon him, he ran back 
to his division, which he regained without further injury. The 
fighting grew more stubborn on the Union side, and soon the 
rebel advance was checked. It was now that Sheridan appeared 
upon the scene, riding furiously a magnificent black horse liter- 
ally flecked with foam. The battle that ensued need not be 
described here ; for everybody knows the story by heart. It is 
enough to say that the enemy was utterly routed, and that the 
war in the valley was over from that hour. Col. Hayes was at 
once promoted to brigadier-general, "for gallant and meritorious 
service in the battles of Winchester, Fisher's Hill, and Cedar 
Creek," to take rank from Oct. 19, 186i. He was also breveted 
major-general, " for gallant and distinguished services during the 
campaigns of 1864 in West Virginia, and particularly in the 
battles of Fisher's Hill and Cedar Creek." In the course of his 
arduous services, four horses had been shot under him, and he 
had been wounded four times. His advancement was never 
sought by himself, but was a spontaneous tribute to his worth 
and valor. One of his associates pays him this tribute : — 

" He proved himself not only a gallant soldier, but a model 
officer. We had opportunities of close observation of him in 
Virginia, and found him cool, self-possessed, and as thorough in 
the discharge of his duties as he was gallant in action. There is 
probably no position that so thoroughly tries the gentleman as 
that of the officer in time of war. The despotic power suddenly 
placed in his hands calls for the higher attributes of manhood 
to preserve its possession from abuse. To his inferiors in rank 
Gen. Hayes was ever kind, patient, and considerate. He was, in 
the first sense of the term, the soldiers' friend. As an officer he 
was noted not only for his strict loyalty to his superiors, but for 
gallantry in battle, and activity in the discharge of every duty, 
however perilous or arduous." 

We turn now from the military to the civil and political career 
of Gen. Hayes. He was first a Whig, and a warm admirer of 
Daniel Webster, whose speeches and writings he carefully stud- 
ied. He could not, however, reconcile it to liis conscience to 
follow that great statesman in his course upon the slavery ques- 



536 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

tion. He was among the first" to unite successively with the Free 
Soil and Republican parties, giving to them his earnest support, 
and laboring with all his might to get before the people the ques- 
tions which the encroachments of slavery made vital. In the dis- 
cussion of these questions he evinced a clear comprehension of 
principles, as well as a mastery of facts. His modesty made him 
oftener a listener than a speaker; but when he did speak, his tone 
was judicial, his temper kind, his argument never overstrained, 
but so manifestly just and candid as to win the confidence even of 
his opponents. In the campaign of 1860 he was very active, re- 
garding the success of the Republican party as essential to the 
preservation of the Union ; and, when the exciting events which 
immediately followed the election were agitating the country, he 
was identified with every movement which favored the overthrow 
of the slave-power. He had defended too many fugitive slaves, 
and become too familiar with the barbarities of slavery, to remain 
neutral in such a crisis. At the grand Union demonstration in 
Cincinnati, April 16, 1861, he was selected to offer the resolutions 
which proclaimed the opinion of the citizens, "assembled with- 
out distinction of party," that "the authority of the United 
States, as against the rebellious citizens of the seceding and dis- 
loyal States, ought to be asserted and maintained ; and that what- 
ever men or means may be necessary to accomplish that object, 
the patriotic people of the loyal States will promptly and cheer- 
fully produce." From that time until the day of his enlistment 
in the army, Hayes was unceasingly at work in securing volunteers. 
His devotion was such as to excite universal admiration ; and, 
when he went to the front, the people of Ohio felt sure that his 
career as a soldier would do them honor. His movements from 
the first were closely watched, and as the struggle went on 
the people became enthusiastic over his achievements in the 
field. 

In 1864 the Republicans of the Second Ohio District besought 
him to accept a nomination for Congress. He was assured that 
he was the only man who could carry the district, which had 
been Democratic by a large majority. He was induced to say 
that, should the war be closed before the meeting of the Con- 
gress to which he was to be chosen, he might take the seat. Ho 
was thereupon nominated, and the enthusiasm which followed 
confirmed the wisdom of his friends. The Democrats nominated 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 537 

a "very popular candidate, and the discontent created by the draft 
made the contest a hard one for the Republicans. Gen. Hayes 
could not be persuaded to take any part in the canvass. To one 
of his friends who urged him in strong terms to come home, and 
personally canvass the district in his own behalf, he wrote this 
characteristic reply : — 

"Yours of is received. Thanks: I have other business just now. 

Any man who would leave the army at this time, to electioneer for Con- 
gress, ought to be scalped. Truly yours, R. B. Hayes." 

But there was no need of his personal presence in the canvass. 
His presence in the army was enough. The popular heart was 
stirred by such mottoes as these on banners and decorations : 
" Our candidate is stumi^ing the Shenandoah Valley ; " " Hayes 
loves his country, and fights for it;" "Tell Gov. Tod I'll be 
on hand." He was elected by a majority of three thousand and 
ninety-eight. After his election, he was importuned to resign 
his commission in the army; but he firmly declared, "I shall 
never come to Washington until I can come by the way of Rich- 
mond." When, after the close of the war, he took his seat in the 
House, he displayed the same characteristics which had marked 
his whole previous course. He was ready for any kind of work, 
but not in the least inclined to push his way into conspicuous 
positions. As a new member, the places assigned to him upon 
committees were not those coveted by ambitious men. But the 
duties intrusted to him were diligently and faithfully performed, 
and it was not long before his merits began to be appreciated. 
As chairman of the House Committee on the Librar}^ he ren- 
dered valuable service in superintending the enlargements of the 
Library which at that period were going forward. He also car- 
ried through the House an appropriation of one hundred thou- 
sand dollars for the purchase of the curious collection of books 
on America made by Col. Peter Force, the value of which to 
future historians will be invaluable. Some attempts to palm off 
upon the Library Committee some worthless works of art were 
by him defeated. He also took an active part in securing the 
passage of the bill prohibiting persons who had been guilty of 
treason or rebellion from practising in the United-States courts. 
A gentleman of large influence, who had watched his career, 
wrote concerning him at this time as follows : — 



538 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

"Mr. Hayes is a good-sized, \vell-fornied man. He is in every way well 
made; has a handsome head on a rather handsome body, and a face which 
would introduce him favorably anywhere. His complexion is light, skin 
florid, temperament composed of the vital, motive, and mental in almost equal 
proportions. He is neither too fast nor too slow, excitable nor sluggish; but 
he is at once energetic, original, comprehensive, dignified, and resolute. He 
is more profound than showy, and has more application than versatility. He 
will finish what he begins, and make thorough work, lie has a hopeful, 
happy nature; is eminently social, fond of home and all that belongs thereto, 
and as hospitable to all as he is thoughtful and considerate. But, to be more 
specific, this gentleman is comparatively young in years, and younger in 
spirit. Though he has already accomplished much, he has by no means 
reached the climax of his fame. He is a rising young man, and, if spared, 
will in the course of a few years be found in the front rank of the best 
minds of the nation. We base our predictions on the following points : 
first, he has a capital constitution, both inherited and acquired, with a cul- 
tivated mind, with strong integrity, honor, generosity, hopefulness, socia- 
bility, and ambition, and all well guided by practical good sense. At 
present he may be thought to lack fire and enthusiasm ; but age and expe- 
rience will give him point and emphasis. Mark us, this gentleman will not 
disappoint the expectations of the most hopeful." 

This, if it does not deserve to be called prophecy, was at least 
pretty good guessing, as Gen. Hayes's subsequent career has fully 
proved. 

In 1866 Gen. Hayes was renominated for Congress, and, for 
the first time in his life, entered actively into a political canvass. 
His speeclies were marked by careful research, good sense, and 
sound judgment. If they were not brilliant, they were at least 
forcible aud convincing, and grew constantly better from first to 
last. There was in them no taint of the coarseness so often 
exhibited in political discussion, no abuse of his opponents, and 
no misrepresentation of their acts or opinions. The bold exag- 
gerations so often resorted to by political speakers for present 
effect were carefully avoided. He appealed always to the reason 
and good sense, never to the prejudices and passions, of his hear- 
ers. If any one supposed that, on this account, his speeches were 
pointless and dull, a study of them would correct the mistake. 

Gen. Hayes was elected the second time by a majority of 
twenty-five hundred and fifty-six ; and he had made his prepara- 
tions to spend two years more in Washington, when, to his sur- 
prise, the State Republican Convention, on June 10, 1867, se- 
lected him with great unanimity as its candidate for governor. 
An amendment to the State Constitution, nbojii-sbing the word 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 539 

" white," as a term of discrimination between citizens, was pend- 
ing; and the Republicans feared that the unpopularity of the 
measure would doom them to defeat. Hayes was nominated as 
the only man whose popularity warranted a hope that he could 
lead them to victory. Hon. Allen G. Thurman, a very strong 
man, was the Democratic candidate ; and Gen. Hayes was ex- 
pected to answer him on the stump. The contest was very close, 
Gen. Hayes being elected by a majority of only three thousand ; 
while the Democrats secured a majority in both branches of the 
Legislature, thus defeating, for the time, the constitutional 
amendment. 

In 1869 Gen. Hayes was again nominated for governor, the 
Hon. George H. Pendleton being the Democratic candidate. He 
entered the canvass confident of victory. As Chief Executive he 
had w^on the praises of men of all parties, and incurred the 
enmity of none ; while the Democrats, by their course in the 
Legislature, had made themselves obnoxious to severe criticism. 
It was a very heated and exciting contest; but Gen. Hayes, by 
his courtesy and fairness toward his opponents, passed through it 
unscathed. His speeches upon the internal affairs of the State 
were generally admired for their lucidity and force. He was 
elected this time by a majority of seven thousand five hundred 
and eighteen votes, while a Republican majority in the Legisla- 
ture was secured. The Democrats proposed, by a combination 
with some of the Republicans, to elect him to the United-States 
Senate ; but he spurned the bribe, and gave his hearty support 
to Senator Sherman, who was re-elected. 

In 1872 Gen. Hayes was again a candidate for Congress, prob- 
ably against his own wish, and was defeated by the Liberals and 
Democrats combined. He now resolved to seek in a retired life 
the rest and quiet which he and his wife had so much desired. 
His purpose was to withdraw entirely from the turmoil and strife 
of politics, as well as from professional labor, and to spend the 
remainder of his days in the sweet peace of a rural home. His 
uncle Sardis, now the wealthiest banker in Central Ohio, feeling 
the infirmities of age, was anxious that he and his family should 
make their home with him in Fremont; and they went there in 
compliance with his earnest solicitation. 

In January, 1874, Sardis Birchard died, leaving all his large 
estates and investments to Gen. Hayes. In 1875 the Republi- 



540 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

cans of Ohio once more besought Gen. Hayes to be their candi- 
date for governor, feeling sure that with him for their leader 
they CO aid overcome the defeat of the previous year. It was 
with the greatest reluctance that he ^accepted the nomination. 
He had just previously refused to accept the office of Assistant 
United-States Treasurer at Cincinnati, preferring to remain in 
private life ; but, when told by his friends that his refusal to run 
again for governor would probably doom his party to defeat, he 
was induced to put on the harness once more. During the can- 
vass that ensued, he made the most powerful and eloquent 
speeches of his whole life. Close study had made him familiar 
with the questions at issue, while long practice had made him an 
accomplished platform speaker. His personal popularity drew 
crowds to hear him, and his powers of persuasion drew a multi- 
tude of voters to the Republican standard ; and he was elected 
for the third time. 

In 1876 the Republican party was divided upon the question 
of a candidate for President. Hon. James G. Blaine was most 
influentially supported ; Hon. Roscoe Conkling was the favorite 
with many; and Hon. Benjamin H. Bristow of Kentucky was 
warmly supported by those Republicans who were not altogether 
satisfied with the administration of Gen. Grant. The National 
Convention was held in Cincinnati in June. Gov. Hayes had 
been spoken of in some quarters as a suitable candidate, and as 
the man likely to be nominated in case of Blaine's and Conk- 
ling's defeat. The Ohio delegation was for him from the start, 
believing him the strongest candidate that could be named. 
After man}'' ballotings he was nominated. Other candidates had 
done what they could to secure the prize for themselves, but 
Gov. Hayes had neither spoken a word nor lifted a finger in his 
own behalf. He treated the nomination with due respect ; but it 
did not fill him with excitement, nor so pre-occupy his mind that 
he could not continue the private business he had in hand when 
the news came to him. Having written his letter of acceptance, 
— a document which excited the admiration of the country, — he 
resigned the office of Governor of Ohio, and retired to his home 
in Fremont, to await the result of the canvass. His fellow- 
citizens of Fremont, without distinction of party, received him 
with enthusiasm ; and his speech on the occasion was one of the 
most eloquent and felicitous he ever made. 



RUTHERFORD BIRCH ARD HAYES. 541 

The result of the election in the States of South Carolina, 
Louisiana, and Florida, owing to circumstances that need not 
be recited here, was for a long time in doubt, and complications 
arose which threatened the peace of the country. The contro- 
versy was thrown into Congress, the Senate being Republican, 
the House Democratic ; and the two parties taking opposite views 
as to the course to be pursued in counting the electoral votes. 
It was finally agreed that the questions at issue should be referred 
to a Commission composed of five Senators, five Representatives, 
and five Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States. 
Three of the Senators were to be Republicans, and two of them 
Democrats ; three of the Representatives Democrats, and two of 
them Republicans. Four Judges of the Supreme Court, two of 
each party, were named by mutual consent ; and these four were 
to name the fifth, who proved to be a Republican, making the 
Commission stand eight Republicans to seven Democrats. Unfor- 
tunately^ all the questions at issue were decided by party votes, — 
eight to seven. Gen. Hayes was declared to be elected by one 
vote over Samuel J. Tilden, the Democratic candidate ; and he 
was inaugurated on Monday, March 5, 1877, as nineteenth Presi- 
dent of the United States, for four years. 

His administration of the affairs of the Government was at 
first much embarrassed by the fact that many of his political 
opponents felt that he was not entitled to the office. But in a 
firm and quiet manner he insisted on the equal rights of all, on 
the economical management of public affairs, and on the honest 
and prompt payment of all the obligations of the Government, 
thus winning the respect of all classes, and giving to the Nation 
some of the most peaceable and prosperous years of its political 
life. The Government was carried on so unostentatiously that the 
people seemed unconscious of the presence of executive power, 
and felt as if the vast machinery of government had found some 
means of propelling itself without help. Such is always the 
feeling under the highest form of political institutions ; uncon- 
sciousness of its presence, like the absence of pain in a strong 
human body, indicating the highest degree of health and happi- 
ness. With his usual modesty and quietness he laid down the 
office he had held with such success, and, March 8, 1881, quietly 
retired to his country home in Ohio, receiving from his old 
neighbors, of all parties, a most complimentary reception. 



CHAPTER XX. 

JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

Parentage.— Birth. — Wilderness. — Death ot his Father. — Youthful Occupations.— 
Attempts to Obtain an Fducation. — School Life. — College Days. — Marriage. — In 
State Senate. — Enters the War. — His Campaigns. — His Election to Congress. — His 
Legishitive Career. — Elected to United States Senate. — Nomination for President. — 
Election. — Inauguration. 

James Abram Garfield was born November 10, 1831, in 
the town of Orange, Cu3'ahoga County, Ohio. His father, 
Abram Garfield, was a native of Worcester, Otsego Coimty, 
New York, and was a descendant of the Garfield family of Mas- 
sachusetts, well known in the days of the American Revolution, 
and which traces its ancestry to Welsh and English lords in the 
time of Queen Elizabeth. His mother, Eliza Ballon, was a na- 
tive of Vermont, and a relative of Hosea Ballon, the celebrated 
preacher and author. 

The child's surroundings at the time of his birth and early 
childhood were as humble and rude as backwoods life could 
make them. His father and mother lived in a little log cabin, in 
a small clearing made by cutting away the primitive forest. The 
front yard was crowded with fresh stumps of giant trees, and 
the little patch of ground they called " the farm " did not in- 
clude over two acres open to the sunlight. With scarcely uten- 
sils sufficient to cook the most simple food, with rough tables, 
rude chairs, and an open fire-place, with a floor of rough slabs 
over one half the small space enclosed by the cabin, with peep- 
holes for windows, logs for doors, and a little brook in the woods 
for a well, with wild game and wheat or corn cracked in a hand 
mortiir for their meals, his parents struggled on day by day in 
the close battle for bare life. 

James was the youngest of a family of four, of which the 
oldest was a boy and two were girls. To care for these children 
and at the same time clear a farm in that inibroken Avilderness, 
required great courage, perseverance, and self-sacrifice on the 
part of his parents, and necessitated that the baby also should 

542 







Q 

CO 



544 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

suffer great privation. Thus the opening of his life was most 
unpromising, and adds another example to the thousands in the 
lives of American great men showing that poverty, seclusion, 
and want in childhood need not prevent growth in goodness or 
achievements in greatness. 

When James was less than two years old his father died, and 
the extreme lowest point of human need seemed to have been 
reached by his family. But displaying a vigor and endurance of 
which they themselves had been ignorant with all their industry 
and toil, his mother worked on the farm and at the spinning- 
wheel, while Thomas, the eldest son, although but a youth, en- 
tered at once upon the responsibilities and hard laboi- of man- 
hood. 

Amos Boynton, a half-brother of Abram Garfield, lived near 
by and cheerfully aided them as much as his limited means ad- 
mitted, while the hardy settlers in the county were generous and 
sympathetic toward the unfortunate family. 

From the outset the lite of James was one of work. Com- 
pelled by the force of circumstances to run on errands, to do 
the chores for his mother and for "Uncle Amos." he developed 
that habit of industry and that physical strength which made his 
after-success possible. Whoever the king of toil has crowned, 
possesses a patent of nobility no king or parliament can take 
away. 

All his early years until he was twelve years old were spent in 
cutting brush for fences, watching the cows, digging at the roots 
of stumps, preparing fire-wood, sowing or harvesting crops, driv- 
ing cattle and teams with wood to Cleveland, brinfjing; water 
from the spring, and sometimes for a few weeks attending school 
in the log school-house erected near his home. His food was 
cheap, his books few, his clothing coarse and scanty, and his f;ice, 
hands, and bare feet were brown and rough with exposure and 
toil in " the boiling of salts," or the burning of chareotil. Yet, 
like every other boy, he had his desires for sport, his dreams of ;i 
grand future, his quarrels with other boys, his mischievous da\s, 
and his poetical tendency to make up for human companionship 
\n giving to rocks, apple trees, dogs, cows, and horses a person- 
ality, as boon companions with whom he could converse and for 
whom he conceived an abiding love. 

He was not especially distinguished above other boys during 
his youthful days, either for his genius as a farmer, woodsman, 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 545 

or herdsman, or for his accomplishments as a debater in the 
country lyceum, or as a schohir in the schools. Not precocious 
nor dull as a child, he was regarded as a boy having good com- 
mon sense and doing his work well. Such a childhood is, as a 
rule, more prophetic of greatness than astonishing brilliancy or 
eccentricity. 

His youthful years were spent in that unsettled yet industrious 
manner which has been the lot of many fatherless, poor boys in 
the early days of pioneer life. If he was distinguished for any- 
thing above other boys of his age and neighborhood, it was in 
the fact that he loved to read, and that as he could not always 
find employment, he had considerable time to spend in that man- 
ner. Like a vast number of other lads, he entertained the wild 
dreams of exploration, adventure, Indian warfare, voyages of dis- 
covery, and hair-breadth escapes, and believed that some day he 
sliould be the hero of exploits such as the books of history and 
of fiction presented to his excitable imagination. 

He was often compelled by circumstances to work alone in the 
woods chopping fuel, and in those lonely hours improved that 
opportunity to think, plan, and resolve, which a city-bred child 
can never find or understand. Many a boy, like young James, 
has likened trees to giants, saplings to armies, and brush to social 
opposition, and with firm hand and strong determination has 
attacked them with his axe so successfully as to make his man- 
hood's victories possible and great. 

He had, as a youth, an intense longing for a sailor's life, until 
he met with a rather harsh rebuff one day at the wharf in Cleve- 
land. James had so far determined on a sailor's life as to make 
a secret visit to Cleveland, where he found a gi'ain vessel lying 
at the wharf discharging* its cargo, and upon which he boldly 
ventured in search of the captain. But when the besotted, dirty, 
profane commander of the vessel appeared on deck and with 
drunken insanity and vile epithets drove him unceremoniously 
off the vessel as a thieving vagabond, James abandoned his ro- 
mantic pictures and ambitions concerning a sea-faring life. 

There however lingered with him a trace of his old purpose 
to be a sailor, as exhibited in a desire he showed at one time to 
be a captain of a canal boat. His uncle Thomas Garfield was 
the owner of a boat on the Ohio canal, and employed many work- 
men in connection with the canal business. So through the kind- 
ness of his uncle and cousins young James obtained an oppor- 



546 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

tunity to drive a mule attached to one of the boats used by the 
owners to transport coal from the mines to Cleveland. He did 
not remain long in that occupation, for one day when his ambition 
and kindness had led him to attempt to do the captain's work as 
steersman of the boat, the rudder struck a snag and the tiller in 
its sudden sweep knocked James overboard into water too deep 
in which to stand, and in which he had never been trained to 
swim. The fright unnerved him, the wetting dangerously chilled 
him, the laughter of his mates disgusted him, and during the 
severe fever which followed the accident he gave vip all idea of 
being either a driver, deck-hand, or captain of a canal boat. 

His attention appears to have been turned toward literary 
attainments and the higher ambitions of life, by the kind and 
earnest advice of a school-teacher and preacher who taught in the 
town of Orange, and who sometimes officiated as a minister or 
preacher in the Church of the Disciples, which is a form of the 
Protestant Baptist Faith, and to which nearly all the Garfield 
family adhei'ed. This teacher showed young James the possibility 
and desirability of becoming a learned and good man. His repre- 
sentations of the satisfaction there was in the possession of a 
liberal education and in the increased opportunities of doing good, 
had great weight with James, and before he had recovered from 
the fever which brought his kind adviser to his bedside he had 
firmly and irrevocably resolved that at whatever sacrifice, he 
would obtain a college education. 

Beginning in the most economical and saving manner, study- 
ing evenings and working by day at farm or carpenter work, he 
obtained sufficent information to venture as a student into the 
lowest class at the academy or seminary in the adjoining town of 
Chester. With the earnings of his vacations and the heroic self- 
sacrifices of his mother and elder brother, he was able to secure 
the advantages of several terms at that Academy ; and it was 
there in one of the classes that he met Lucretia Rudolph, whom 
he afterwards married. 

From Chester, James went to Hiram College, where he con- 
tinued his studies until sufficiently advanced in the classics and 
mathematics to be qualified for admission at Williams College 
two years in advance. During his stay at Hiram, Ohio, he was 
the janitor of the college buildings, and a sort of jack-at-all- 
trades for the inhabitants who could favor him with employment 
out of college hours. To provide himself with the necessary 



pi 



o 

O 




548 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

funds to carry him through his college course at Williamstown 
Mass., he borrowed five hundred dollars of his uncle Thomas, and 
worked for the citizens such extra hours as he could safely get 
from his studies. His life at Williams was that of an unostenta- 
tious, cai-eful, industrious student seeking no honors but those at- 
tached to thoroughness in the prescribed studies, and he seems to 
have passed through the course creditably but without attracting 
especial attention by his genius or brilliant acquirements. He 
was admitted to the college in September, 1854, and graduated in 
1856. 

On his return to Ohio, he was at once engaged as a teacher at 
Hiram, and was also pressed into the additional work of preach- 
ing the Gospel. He took a position at once as a leading preacher 
and most popular teacher, so that he was called to officiate in the 
largest churches, and within a year was promoted to the presi- 
dency of the college at Hiram, where he was the loved and honored 
friend of rich and poor, great and small. There in 1858, at her 
father's house in Hiram, he was married to Miss Rudolph and be- 
gan a home life of his own. 

After his marriage he began the study of law, and giving to it 
his extra hours he was able in 1860 to pass the necessary exami- 
nation and was admitted to the bar as an attorney at law. He 
was attracted to legal studies by his active and patriotic interest 
in public affairs. He was an Abolitionist, Freesoiler, and Repub- 
lican, and was always open and bold in the declaration of his 
political principles, whether in college, church, or caucus. But it 
appears that he never had any ambition for public office until it 
was thrust upon him to his surprise. He did hope to be a lawyer 
and a successful public debater on those public measures which 
he wished to see successful. 

In the autumn of 1859, he was elected to the Ohio State Senate 
by a sweeping majority, and when lie took his seat he was the 
youngest member of that body — being but twenty-eight years 
of age. 

In the State Senate, during those trying years of 1860 and 
1861, he was a very useful and eloquent member of the Legisla- 
ture. At the opening of the Rebellion in April, 1861, Mr. Gar- 
field was appointed as a member of Gov. Dennison's staff to as- 
sist in organizing troops for the war. In September, 1861, he 
was appointed colonel of the Forty-second Ohio Regiment, com- 
posed in a great part of his classmates and his students at Hiram 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 549 

College. September 14, 1861, Col. Garfield's Regiment left Co- 
lumbus, and on the 18th arrived at Catlettsburgli, Kentucky, 
where it went into camp during Col. Garfield's absence at Louis- 
ville, to which place he was ordered for the purpose of consulting 
with Gen. Buell concerning the plans of the campaign in Ken- 
tucky- 
Gen. Buell was not ignorant of Col. Garfield's ability, nor 
of his popularity in Ohio, and hoped to find in the new colo- 
nel a vigorous supporter. The campaign in West Virginia had 
succeeded passably well, and Gen. Buell was in hopes that he 
might be equally successful in clearing Kentucky of the rebels, 
and in capturing Nashville. The general was a rather harsh 
disciplinarian, and did many foolish things with his raw troops. 
His ideas of military discipline were better adapted to a military 
empire, or an established and unlimited monarchy, than to the 
assemblies of free men, who were fighting for themselves and 
not for a king. However, he was earnest, patriotic, and brave, 
and recognizing those qualities in Col. Garfield, he at once con- 
fided to him the plan of the Kentucky campaign. Col. Gar- 
field did not pretend to be a military strategist, but when he 
looked over the map with Gen. Buell, and heard how many 
rebel forces were in Eastern Kentucky, and liow many in West- 
ern Kentuck}^ he thought it was folly to attempt to march 
through the centre of the State to Nashville, with such forces on 
both flanks. The general thought that some movement ought to 
be made at once, and if the colonel had any doubts about the 
proposed plan it would be well to think the matter over and con- 
sult again about it the next day. 

The following morning Col. Garfield brought in a draft of 
his plan, which was to move into the State in three columns, 
leaving no forces behind them, and if either column defeated its 
opponent, it could readily unite with the centre and move on to 
Nashville. After some discussion, and after the general had 
asked the colonel if he would undertake the direction of the east- 
ern column, the plan submitted was adopted so far as it could 
be without the co-operation of Gen. Halleck's command in Mis- 
souri. The general plan was, however, somewhat modified by 
Zollicoffer's entrance into Kentucky at Cumberland Gap with a 
rebel army to co-operate \yith Gen. Humphrey Marshall, who 
was already in Kentucky near Pound Gap. But Gen. George 
H. Thomas was sent to drive back Zollicoffer, and Col. Gar- 
field's orders to attack Humphrey Marshall were not changed. 



550 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Thus we find him with. a most important campaign on his 
hands before he had any experience even in drilling a regiment 
in the manual of arms. The purposed movement was one of 
such importance, in view of the necessity of keeping Marshall 
from moving to Zollieoffer's aid and striking Gen. Thomas's 
forces on the flank, that it is a little surprising that Gen. Buell, 
with his ideas of military manoeuvres, should have intrusted it 
to a commander so fresh from civil life. Col. Garfield had never 
seen a skirmish, nor heard the crack of a single hostile rifle. 
It therefore seemed somewhat inconsistent with Garfiekl's well- 
known character to assume the direction of so important a mili- 
tary movement. It seems probable that he did not knoAv just 
how important it was, nor appreciate how eagerly the whole 
field was being watched by President Lincoln and the author- 
ities at Washington for some signs of ultimate victory. It was 
one of the gloomiest periods of the war; and when the news 
of the selection of Col. Garfield for the expedition up the Big 
Sandy River to meet Marshall was announced to Mr. Lincoln, he 
sought Secretary Stanton, who was also a native of Ohio, and 
asked who the man was they were sending " into such danger- 
ously close quarters." The President anxiously awaited Gen. 
Buell's forward movement toward Bowling Green and Nashville ; 
and seeing how important the defeat of the rebels' flank move- 
ments under Marshall and ZoUicoffer had become, he followed 
the movements of Col. Garfield and Gen. Thomas with the deep- 
est interest. 

Col. Garfield's orders to proceed up the Sandy Valley were 
delivered to him December 13th or 14th. A few days later he 
collected the forces intrusted to him at the mouth of the Big 
Sandy River, and began his march up the valley. His command, 
which was called a brigade, did not number over twenty-three 
hundred available men, and consisted of the Fortieth and Forty- 
second Ohio infantry, the Fourteenth and Twenty-second Ken- 
tucky infantry, and eight companies of cavalry. To these he 
hoped to add a small force then stationed at Paris, and to which 
he sent orders directing its commander to join him near Paintville. 

Gen. Marshall had a force of five thousand men, and was 
in a country with which he was familiar, while Col. Garfield 
was in a strange region, with about one half that number of 
troops. If there had been any hesitation or delay on the part of 
the Union forces it would have encouraged Marshall to attack 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 551 

them on their march, for the rebel general was among his 
friends, and all the people acted as spies and couriers in commu- 
nicating the advance and condition of the invading forces. But 
so determinedly and steadily did the troops march on, that it 
seems to have created a fear of them in advance, which went far 
toward giving them the victory when the battle came. 

All the information which Garfield could gain seemed to locate 
Marshall near Paintville, and hence he expected a contest at that 
point. But Marshall retreated to Prestonburg before Garfield 
arrived, leaving a company of cavalry to hold the place and 
delay the Union troops. Garfield, finding the enemj'^, and sup- 
posing that the rebel army was immediately in front, notwith- 
standing the fatigue of his troops, moved immediately forward to 
attack them. 

Dii-ecting his cavalry to engage the enemy in front, Garfield 
made a circuit with his infantry, hoping to reach Mai'shall's rear. 

It is said that when he had given his orders to the cavalry, 
and had started forward on foot with the infantry, he took off 
his coat and threw it into a tree, and shouted back to the horse- 
men so soon to charge, " Give 'em Hail Columbia, boys ! " 

But before his troops reached the road in the rear, the vigor- 
ous charge of the Union cavalry had sent the enemy flying to- 
ward Prestonburg in such haste as to leave their canteens, 
haversacks, blankets, and dead bodies strewing the highway. 

This retreat was quite unexpected to Gen. Garfield, and he 
had so confidently counted upon a battle at that point, that his 
brigade was not supplied with provisions for a march further 
into the interior. To supply the necessar}' provisions caused a 
day's delay, and compelled him to leave a portion of his troops 
at Paintville, while he pressed on after Marshall, x^t Paint- 
ville, however, he was joined by troops from Paris, numbering 
about one thousand or twelve hundred. 

On the following da}^ which was the 9tli of January, Garfield 
followed Marshall to Prestonburg, and found that the rebels 
were posted on a hill in a most advantageous position, with their 
artillery within a most effective range. Garfield had been mis- 
informed about Marshall's movements, and was compelled to as- 
certain the enemy's position by skirmishing and feints. While 
awaiting the troops, which he decided to order up from Paint- 
ville, his troops were constantly engaged in skinnishing, and the 
whole command was under fire, many of the men for the first' 
time. 



652 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS 

It must have given a much more serious appearance to the art 
of war to see the line of gray, and hear the shot and shell shriek 
over their heads. To the colonel, on whose word and judgment 
hung the lives of so many and, perhaps, the fate of a mighty 
nation, the feeling of responsibility must have been great, while 
the peculiar sense of danger and dread of the unforeseen which 
fills the heart at the opening of the first battle, must have been a 
trial in his inexperience. 

It was nearly dark when the re-enforcements arrived, and with- 
out delay, and amid the enthusiastic cheering of the men, he 
ordered an advance, to be followed by a charge upon the enemy's 
guns. There was a sharp musketry fire for a short time, as the 
enemy fell slowly back toward their guns, and the artillery of 
the rebels was handled most skilfully. 

When, however, the lines of the Union forces had secured the 
desired position from which to make their charge, Marshall sud- 
denly sounded a retreat, and left the field under cover of the 
darkness. 

The sudden disappearance of the enemy and the silence which 
prevailed, together with the uncertainty whether it was an actual 
retreat or a ruse, made the hour following the disappearance one 
of great anxiety. The troops, fatigued and hungry, moving cau- 
tiously about in the dark woodland and fields, anxiously awaiting 
developments, were but a counterpart of that other historical 
picture of the great President at "Washington, pacing his room at 
that very hour, and saying, " I cannot bear this dangerous delay. 
Haven't we any one who will fight? " 

Gen. Garfield's suspense was not long, however, for soon the 
clouds overhead began to assume an unusual color, and a lit- 
tle later were lit up with the lurid glare of distant fires. The 
distant mountains stood out prominent in the unn;itural light, 
and pillars of illumined smoke arose along the road toward the 
gate to Virginia. It was clear, then, that Marshall was retreat- 
ing out of Kentucky, and was burning his immense military 
stores. 

To pursue the rebels that night was impracticable, and, after 
a short cavalry reconnoissance, the tired troops used the light 
of the enemy's burning camps to prepare their meagre supper 
and hard beds. The time, the circumstances, and the fact that 
the enemy numbered forty-nine hundred, made the victory an 
important one, while Col. Garfield's bravery and ability, dis- 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 553 

played in the march and engagement, placed liini at once among 
the experienced and trustworthy soldiers. 

The next day the enemy was pursued to the Virginia line, 
and the order was then given to return to their camps near Pike- 
ton with their prisoners. They had killed two hundred and fifty 
of the enemy and taken forty prisoners, with a loss to the Union 
troops of only thirty-two men. Col. Garfield's commission as 
a brigadier-general was dated so as to take effect from that bat- 
tle at Prestonburg. 

The next day after establishing the brigade camp, a heavy 
rain storm came on which laid a large portion of Sandy Valley 
under water. It was impossible to marcli or to transport provis- 
ions over land. The river became so swollen that the steamboats 
were detained in the Ohio, and that source of supply was also 
closed. It was a most alarming condition of affairs, for it was 
impossible for the army to find sufficient food in the surrounding 
region, even if they transgressed the strict orders forbidding for- 
aging. When they had rations for two days only the puzzled 
commander saw no way to save his little army from actual starva- 
tion. If the array had been able to march or wade through the 
mud, it would have been a disobedience of orders to leave the 
country to be again occupied by the enemy. 

In his perplexity he decided to go for provisions himself, think- 
ing that he might find some boat along the river which could be 
brought up in such an extremity. 

But he went as far as the Ohio River before he found one. The 
great flood was so powei'ful that no one dared venture into its 
surges. He found two or three boatmen who said that a boat had 
once ascended the Big Sandy in a flood like that, but it was a 
miracle that it escaped destruction. 

" Some boat must go up," said the general. " My men shall 
not starve! " 

He found a rickety steamboat fastened to the bank of the 
sti'eam awaiting a subsidence of the flood, and he ordered the 
captain to take a load of provisions up the river to the camp. The 
captain refused, saying that it would be as bad as suicide to un- 
dertake it. But Col. Garfield insisted with his revolver in hand, 
and the captain and men, thinking they might as well be drowned 
as be shot for disobedience of military orders, allowed the boat, 
■with themselves, to be taken by the general for the dangerous ex- 
periment. Finding no one whom he dared to trust to take the 

70 



554 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

wheel or who was strong enough to manage it in the swiffc cur- 
rent, the general himself took the wheel, and for two days and the 
greater part of one iiight stood at his post. It required the most 
cautious steering to avoid the projecting banks and trees covered 
by the flood, and often the boat would graze an obstruction wliich 
would have sunk it, if it had struck near the prow. 

Once the craft ran aground on a hard sand-hunk and refused to 
back off when the wheel was reversed, and the general tried to 
induce some of the men to take the small boat and go on shore to 
fasten a rope so that they might pull the boat off the bank by 
the aid of the windlass. Not one dared tempt the terrific flood. 
So the genei'al took the boat and the rope, and at a most hazard- 
ous risk o£ his life, especially so, as the river navigation was new 
to him, he crossed the stream and fastened the rope. 

It was a triumphant hour for him when he saw the crowd of 
his anxious troojjs on the river bank awaiting his -coming, and one 
in which he blessed that day on which he learned to steer a canal 
boat. 

The half-famished men, who had descended in despair to the 
river, believing that no boat could stem the flood, shouted them- 
selves hoarse, and performed all kinds of childish antics, when 
they saw their general skilfully steering the frail and trembling 
river streamer. They could scarcely believe their own ej^es ; and 
many a night about the camp fires the soldiers afterwards told 
the story of the general's dangerous trip up the Sandy, with ra- 
tions for his hungry men. 

For three months the Union troops remained at or near Pike- 
ton, often making short expeditions to drive out stray bands of 
rebel marauders. 

In the month of March, Gen. Garfield determined to drive out 
the rebels who were posted near Pound Gap, on the Virginia side 
of the Cumberland Mountains ; and with seven hundred men, in- 
cluding two hundred cavalry, he made a forced march of forty 
miles, and encamped secretly near the enemy's quarters. Early 
next morning, in a blinding snow storm, he sent the cavalry 
through the Gap, while the infantry clambered up by a difficult 
path to surprise the rebels in the rear. He was completely suc- 
cessful in surprising the post, but the rebels scattered so fast that 
he captured but few of them. They left valuable stores of ammu- 
nition and provisions behind, of which he took possession. The 
next day he burned the camp and returned to his quarters. A few 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 555 

days later he was ordered to report with the greater part of his 
command at Louisville. 

When Gen. Garfield arrived at Louisville, he found that Gen. 
Buell was far away in Tennessee, hurrying to the assistance of 
Gen. Grant, at Pittsburg Landing. So Gen. Garfield, obedient 
to fresh orders, bade a hasty farewell to his comrades, and hur- 
ried on after the army. He overtook Gen. Buell at Columbia, 
Tennessee, and was at once assigned to the command of the 
Twentieth Brigade, in the division of Gen. T. J. Wood. 

This change in his command was a great grief to Gen. Garfield, 
who had hoped to keep the Fortieth Ohio in his brigade, and thus 
be with his old friends, scholars, and neighbors throughout the 
war. But from that time their paths diverged, and never united 
again during the entire contest. 

The army, of which his new command formed a part, nfade a 
forced march from Columbia to Savannah, on the Tennessee 
River, and from that point they were in great haste hurried on 
by boat to Pittsburg Landing. The battle of Shiloh had been 
raging for more than a day, when these re-enforcements arrived. 
Without rest or time to enter camp they hurried on to the field 
of battle, and Gen. Garfield's command was under fire during the 
final contest which gave the victory to the federal troops. 

The nex:t day his troops, with other forces under Gen. Sher- 
man, were sent in pursuit of the retreating enemy, and a short but 
hotly contested battle was fought, in which Gen. Garfield was 
conspicuously cool and brave. 

During that tedious siege of Corinth, w'hich followed, his 
command was nearly all the time at the outposts, and was en- 
gaged often in skirmishes with the rebels, and was with the first 
column that was ordered forward when the town was evacuated 
by Beauregard. 

In June, 1862, his brigade was sent to repair and protect the 
Memphis and Charleston railroad, between Corinth and Decatur, 
after which he advanced to Huntsville, Alabama, and gained no 
little credit for his skill in military engineering, connected with 
the fortifications. 

It has been often related of him that while in command of this 
brigade, a fugitive slave came rushing into his camp, with a 
bloody head, and apparently frightened almost to death. He had 
scarcely passed the headquarters, when a regular bully of a fel- 
low came riding up, and with a volley of oaths began to ask after 



5i6 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

his " nigger." Gen. Garfiekl was not present, and he passed on 
to the division commander. The division commander was a 
sympathizer with the theory that fugitive shives slionld be re- 
turned to their masters, and that the Union soldiers should be 
made the instruments for returning them. He accordingly wrote 
a mandatory order to Gen. Garfield, in whose command the 
darkey was supposed to be hiding, telling him to hunt out and 
deliver over the property of the outraged citizen. Gen. Gar- 
field took the order and deliberately wrote on it the following 
indorsement: — 

" I respectively but positively decline to allow my command to 
search for or deliver up any fugitive slaves. I conceive that they 
are here for quite another purpose. The command is open, and 
no obstacles will be placed in the way of search." 

The indorsement frightened his staff officers, and they ex- 
pected that, if returned, the result would be that the general 
would be court-martialed. He simply replied, " The matter may 
as well be tested first as last. Right is right, and I do not pro- 
pose to mince matters at all. My soldiers are here for other 
purposes than hunting and returning fugitive slaves. My peo- 
ple on the Western Reserve of Ohio did not send my boys and 
myself down here to do that kind of business, and they will back 
me up in my action." He would not alter the indorsement, and 
the order was returned. Nothing ever came of the matter further. 

June loth, Gen. Garfield was detailed to sit in a trial by 
court-martial of a lieutenant of the Fifty-Eighth Indiana volun- 
teers. His skill in that case, combined with his memory of judi- 
cial decisions, caused the officers, sitting with him in the court, 
to commend him for his signal ability in such matters. On July 
5th he was again detailed to act as president of the important 
court-martial detailed to try Col. Turchin, of the Nineteenth 
Illinois. Of that court Gen. Garfield's adjutant-general, Capt. 
P. T. Swain, acted as judge advocate. 

July 30th, he Avas given a leave of absence, owing to the re- 
turn of the fever and ague, which had not disturbed him until 
that season, from the spring when he left the canal. For two 
months he lay at Hiram, dangerously sick, and several important 
commands were offered him, which his illness compelled him to 
decline. It was during this summer that he paid for the small 
wooden dwelling in Hiram, which was afterwards his home. 

As soon as he was able to travel he was ordered by the Secre- 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 5oT. 

tary of War to report to the War Department, at Washington. 
This he did about the 25th of September. His fame as a jurisfc 
in martial trials had reached Washington, and he was ordered to 
sit on the court of inquiry in the case of Gen. McDoweU. At 
one time he was ordei-ed to proceed to South Carolina, with 
Gen. Hunter, but circumstances intervened to keep them in 
Washington. 

November 25, 1862, he was made a member of the court in the 
celebrated trial of Gen. Fitz-John Porter for the failure to co- 
operate with Gen. Pope at the battle of Bull Run. At that 
trial he had a delicate and important duty to perform, and did 
his work with such wisdom as to secure the unsolicited compli- 
ment from its president that "• he must have been a great lawyer 
in Ohio." 

During his engagements at Washington he was called home by 
the illness and death of his only child. It was a sad blow to a 
heart so tender as his ; and it is said of him that while he held 
the body of the sweet little child in his arms, after its death, he 
remarked how inappropriate to everything about him was his 
military uniform, and of how little consequence, compared with 
the love and peace of a happy home, were the honors which men 
could bestow. 

While he was at home, in the months of August and Septem- 
ber, as already stated, and confined to his bed, there was no little 
agitation going on in that congressional district over a successor 
to the renowned anti-slavery champion, Joshua R. Giddings. The 
excitement was caused b}^ the fact that Mr. Giddings had been 
defeated in the nominating convention, two years before, by 
some means, and his friends laid all the blame on the successful 
candidate. They therefore determined upon preventing the re- 
nomination of Mr. Giddings's successor. In their canvass for a 
candidate who would be sure to carry the convention, as there 
was no hope that the health of Mr. Giddings would admit of his 
return to Congress, even if he could have left his post as consul- 
general in Canada, they hit upon Gen. Garfield, who at that 
time was recovering, but whose return to the malarial districts 
was considered dangerous. His name was one which was sure 
to overcome any combination or opposition. It does not appear 
that they consulted with Gen. Garfield at all, but very care- 
fully concealed their design, both from him and the opposition. 
On the presentation of his name to the Republican Congressional 



558 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

Convention, in September, it was received with all the enthusiasm 
that the friends of the measure had expected. He was the sin- 
gle man on the " Western Reserve " against whom it would be a 
farce to make any opposition. 

The movement did not at first meet with Gen. Garfield's 
approval, and he reserved his decision whetiier he should refuse 
the honor, until he could confer with President Lincoln. His 
pay as a general was much larger thnn that of a congressman ; 
he had entered the war to stay, and he disliked to leave it. 

On the other hand, his health might break down it" he re- 
turned to the South, and it was probable that the war would be 
closed in the year which would intervene between his election 
and the opening of the Congress to which he would be chosen. 

When he visited the President, and told hiiu the circum- 
stances, Mr. Lincoln bluntly remarked that there were generals 
enough already and plenty more to be had, biiL the number of 
congressmen who understood the needs of the country were few, 
and if the Rebellion continued it was likely to be lessened by the 
death or enlistment of good men. Members of the Cabinet giv- 
ing him the same advice, he silentU^ acquiesced in the nomina- 
tion, and was elected with unheard-ot" unanimity. 

In Januaiw he had so far recovered that he was ordered into 
the field, and directed to report to Gen. Rosecrans, at Mur- 
freesborough. Lumediately after his arrival he was appointed 
chief of staff to Gen. Rosecrans, then commanding the army of 
the Cumberland. 

The writer of the history of the Forty-second Ohio Regiment, 
whose sources of information were so trustwortJiy, and whose 
gifts as a writer were so apparent as to lead to his selection, by 
that regiment of students, as their historian, wrote, in 1875, of 
Gen. Garfield's share in the campaigns of the army of the Cum- 
berland, as follows : — 

" He was assigned to duty as chief of staff of the army of the 
Cumberland, in place of the lamented Colonel Garesche, who 
had been killed in the battle of Stone River. Early in the 
spring of that year Capt. P. T. Swain, his adjutant-geuei-al since 
the previous April, was directed to organize a Bureau of Mili- 
tary Liformation. By a system of police and scout I'eports very 
full and trustworthy information was obtained of the organiza- 
sion, strength, and position of the enemy's forces. 
. Early in June the general commanding required each general 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 559 

of a corps and division of the army of the Ciimbeiland to report 
his opinions, in writing, in reference to any early or immediate 
advance against the forces of Gen. Bragg. Seventeen general 
officers submitted written opinions on that subject. Most of 
them were adverse to any eai'ly movement, and nearly all advised 
against an immediate advance. Gen. Garfield presented to the 
commanding general an analysis and review of these opin'ons, 
and urged an immediate movement against the enemy. For 
more than five months the army of Rosecrans had lain inactive 
at Murfreesborough, while the commanding general had haggled 
and bandied words with the War Department. As chief of staff, 
Gen. Garfield did all that adroit diplomacy could do to soften 
these asperities, and meanwhile gave all his energy to the work 
of preparing the at-my for an advance, and ascertaining the 
strength of the enemy. 

His Bureau of Military Information was the most perfect ma- 
chine of the kind organized in the field durinc; the war. When 
at last June came, the Government and the people demanding 
an advance, and the seventeen subordinate generals of Rosecrans 
advising against it, the analysis of the situation drawn np and 
submitted by Gen. Garfield, met and overthrew them all. Speak- 
ing of this letter, Mr. Whitelaw Reid, in liis '' Ohio in the 
War," says : " This report we venture to pronounce the ablest 
military document known to have been submitted by a chief of 
staff to his superior during the war." This is high praise, but it 
is history. 

Twelve days after it was submitted, the army moved, — 
against the will and opinion of Gen. Crittenden and nearly all 
Rosecrans' leading officers. It marched into the TuUahoma cam- 
paign, one of the most perfectly planned and ably executed 
movements of the war. The lateness of the start, caused by the 
objections which Gen. Garfield's letter finally overcame, alone 
saved Bragg's army from destruction. Tliei'e was a certain work 
to do, which might as well have been begun on the 1st of June 
as the 24th. Had it been begun on the first of these dates, 
Bragg's army might, in all probability, have been destroyed. 
As it was, the heavy rains intervened and saved him from pur- 
suit. 

With his military reputation thus strengthened. Gen. Garfield 
went with his chief into the battle of Chickamauga. His influ- 
ence over Rosecrans had by this time become almost supreme. 



560 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

His clear and comprehensive mind grasped every detail, and his 
opinions were invariably consulted on all important questions. 
He wrote many orders upon his own judgment, submitting them 
to Rosecrans for approval or alteration. On the field of Chicka- 
mauga he wrote every order except one, and that one was the 
fatal order to Gen. Wood, which ruined Rosecrans' right wing 
and lost the battle. The order from Rosecrans to Wood, as the 
latter interpreted it, required him to move his command behind 
another division, leaving a wide gap in the line of McCook's 
corps, which held the right. Wood says that he knew this move 
would be fatal, but it was ordered, and he felt compelled to 
execute it. Longstreet saw the blunder, hurled Hood's division 
into the gap, and within an hour McCook's corps was broken 
and streaming, a disorganized mob of men, back to Chattanooga. 
Trying vainly to check the tide of retreat. Gen. Garfield was 
swept with his chief back beyond Rossville. But the chief of 
staff could not concede that defeat had been entire. He heard 
the roar of Thomas' guns on the left, and gained permission of 
Rosecrans to go round to that quarter and find the army of 
the Cumberland. While the commander busied himself with 
preparing a refuge at Chattanooga for his routed army, his chief 
of staff went back, accompanied only by a staff officer and a few 
orderlies, to find whatever part of the army still held its ground, 
and save what there was left. It was a perilous ride. Long 
before lie reached Thomas one of his orderlies was killed. Al- 
most alone he pushed on over the obstructed road, through pur- 
suers and pursued, found the heroic Thomas encircled by fire, 
but still firm, told him of the disaster on the right, and explained 
how he could withdraw his right wing and fix it upon a new line 
to meet Longstreet's column, which had turned the right of 
Thomas' position and was marching in heavy column upon his 
rear. The movement was made just in time ; but Thomas' line 
was too short, it would not reach to the base of the mountain. 
Longstreet saw the gap, drove his column into it, and would 
have struck Thomas' line fatally in the rear, but in that critical 
moment Gen. Gordon Granger came up w^ith Steadman's divi- 
sion, which moved in heavy column, threw itself upon Long- 
street, and, after a terrific struggle, drove him back. The dead 
and wounded Liy in heaps where those two columns met, but the 
army of Gen. Thomas was saved. As night closed in upon the 
heroic army of the Cumberland, Gens. Garfield and Granger, 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 561 

on foot and enveloped in smoke, directed the loading and point- 
ing of a battery of Napoleon guns, whose flash, as they thundei'ed 
after the reti-eating column of the assailants, was the last light 
that shone upon the battle-field of Cliickamauga. The struggle 
was over, and the rebels retired repulsed. Had the two shat- 
tered corps of McCook and Crittenden that night been brought 
upon the field and enabled Thomas to hold his ground, there 
might have been a second day to that battle, which would have 
changed its complexion in history. 

The battle of Chickamauga practically closed Gen. Garfield's 
military career. About four weeks after the engagement he was 
sent by Rosecrans to Washington to report minutely to the Pres- 
ident and the War Department the position, deeds, resources, 
and capabilities of the army at Chattanooga. He went, had 
frequent lengthy interviews with the President and Secretary 
Stanton, and thus, point by point, made a most thorough and 
satisfactory report. Meanwhile, Gen. Garfield had been pro- 
moted to ar major-generalship of volunteers " for gallant and 
meritorious services at the battle of Chickamauga," to take rank 
from the 19th of September, 1863. Rosecrans had been removed 
from the command of the army at Chattanooga and Gen. Grant 
appointed to his place. 

Gen. Garfield was then called to a new field of duty. In 
October of the year previous, while the Forty-second was re- 
treating from Cumberland Gap, the people of the Nineteenth 
Congressional District of Ohio had elected him as their repre-. 
sentative to the Thirty-Eighth Congress. 

" He was a major-general, young, popular in the army, and in 
high favor .at Washington ; he was poor, and his army pay was 
double the slender salary of a congressman, but he had been 
chosen by the people of his district as their representative under 
circumstances which, in his judgment, would not permit him to 
decline the trust. Gen. Thomas offered him the command of a 
corps ; but Lincoln urged him to resign his commission and come 
to Congi-ess. The President was strenuous, and his advice pre- 
vailed. There was no want of major-generals, but there was 
need of all the zeal, courage, and ability that could be assembled 
in Congress." So his friends argued, and the sequel proved the 
wisdom of their demand upon him. Yielding to this, he resigned 
his commission on the 5th of December, 1863, having served in 
the army more than a year after his election to Congress, and 

71 



662 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

took his sent on the same day in the House of Repvesentiitives, 
where he served until elected to the United States Senate in 
1880, just before his nomination for the Presidency. 

His election to the Senate was remarkably spontaneous and 
hearty on the part of the Ohio Legislature, and was a just and 
reasonable compliment to him for his eminent services through 
sixteen years of a most active legislative life. 

The story of Gen. Garfield's success in the House of Represen- 
tatives of the American nation, is the most interesting and the 
most remarkable part of the history of his life. We have already 
seen how his qualities as a young man cornmended him to the 
respect and attention of the Senate of Ohio, and we shall see how 
quickly those same qualities lifted him above the mass of con- 
gressmen, and brought him into the notice of the nation. 

It must not be considered by the reader that, because Gen. 
Garfield was known to the President, and to some of the great 
captains of our army, and was loved and honored by the people 
of the Western Reserve, that he was known in the House of 
Representatives. There were hundreds of generals in the field 
whose names were far better known than that of Rosecrans' 
chief of staff. There were generals in the House of Representa- 
tives who had seen severer service, and whose deeds had been 
far wider proclaimed. There were old statesmen there whose 
hairs had grown white in the seiwice of the nation. There were 
scholars of the highest reputation, and orators whose words had 
become classic. Not a score of the whole assembly knew hi in by 
sight, or could recall his place of residence or past services when 
his name was called. 

It was a new start in life. In Congress, as in the back-woods, 
he must overcome difficulties and fight his way alone. To win dis- 
tinction there he must be something more than daring, truthful, 
and industrious; he must possess that peculiar combination of 
strong talents and intellectual acuteness to which men somewhat 
vaguely apply the term, " greatness." To be eminently great in 
a nation of great men, and in a time when especial circumstances 
combined to develop and disclose human nobilit}^ required mas- 
terly talents and incessant watchfulness. To be of unusual ser- 
vice to humanity and of exceptional value to a nation, when 
twenty-five millions of people were striving, at a fever heat, to 
do the same thing, is something of which a man has reason to be 
proud. Such is Gen. Garfield's record. He entered upon his 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 563 

duties in Congress at a time when there were foes within and 
foes without ; when a strong army threatened the nation in the 
Southern States, and Great Britain menaced it from the ocean ; 
when the finances of the Government were afettino" into an al- 
most inextricable snarl ; when the people were searching for 
their greatest men, for counsellors in the nation's peril and dis- 
tress ; and when it required fortitude, wisdom, and patriotism 
above the common order, to provide securely for the nation's 
future. 

For this work Gen. Garfield was well endowed by nature and 
education. He was a ready speaker, — apt, elegant, pointed, 
vehement. He had all the scholarship of the colleges, and more 
to draw upon. He had the practice of cultured public speaking. 
He had the experience of war, and a coui-se of extensive readino- 
from which to draw forcible and illuminating ilhistrations. He 
had all the physical characteristics of dignity, strength, counte- 
nance, and voice, which are so useful in the public forum. Thus 
he was well equipped for a place in a deliberative assembly. But 
the growth of a member's influence, nnder the most favorable 
circumstances, is slow. He could not be a leader there until he 
had again and again displayed his ability for the post. He does 
not appear to have aspired to leadership ; but, from the first day 
of the session, set himself with stubborn purpose at the task of 
securing a complete knowledge of the rules and history of Con- 
gress. 

Then followed a study of the resources of the nation in men 
and money, and of the history of other countries, whose experi- 
ence could throw any light, or give any suggestion to statesmen, 
in the complicated and perplexing trials of the Union. His 
habits of incessant study served him well, and he always had a 
book in bis hand or in his pocket, for use in any spare moment. 
His astonishing readiness in congressional debates upon any 
question of commerce, manufactures, finance, revenue, interna- 
tional law, or whatever came up, can be accounted for by this 
industrious habit. Never idle himself, and aided by his wife, as 
only a talented, patient, and affectionate woman of her unusual 
gifts can help a man of letters, he steadily and heartily favored 
the measures he thought were wise and good, and earnestly, and 
sometimes excitedly, opposed those actions which he deemed to 
be pernicious and wrong. 

He was given a place at once, upon his entry into Congress, 



564 LIVES OF THE FJiESlDENTS. 

on the very important committee on military affairs. His col- 
leagues bear testimony to his activity, industry, and efficiency, 
from the very beginning of his term. His speeches were often 
models of graceful oratory, and yet have about them none of that 
objectionable air of conceit which would suggest that the speaker 
delivered them for any other purpose but to convince. 

On the first anniversary of the death of Abraham Lincoln, and 
during Gen. (rarfield's third year of service in the House of Rep- 
resentatives, Congress adjourned for the day as a mark of respect 
for the martyr President's memory. Gen. Garfield was selected 
to make the motion to adjourn, and in so doing, was selected to 
make a short address. It was one of the most cultured, thought- 
ful and appropriate addresses to be found in the vast collection of 
patriotic speches, which remain to this generation from the days 
of war and reconstruction. 

" I desire," said he, " to move that this House do now adjourn. 
And before the vote upon that motion is taken I desire to say a 
few words. This day, Mr. Speaker, will be sadly memorable so 
long as this nation shall endure, which God grant may be 'till 
the last syllable of recorded time,' when the volume of human 
history shall be sealed up and delivered to the omnipotent Judge. 
In all future time, on the recurrence of this day, I doubt not that 
the citizens of this republic will meet in solemn assembl}^ to re- 
flect on the life and character of Abraham Lincoln, and the awful 
tnigic event of April 14, 1865, — an event unparalleled in the 
history of nations, certainly unparalleled in our own. It is emi- 
nently pi'oper that this House should this day place upon its rec- 
ords a memorial of that event. The last five years have been 
marked by wonderful developments of individual character. Thou- 
sands of our people, before unknown to fame, have taken their 
places in history, crowned with immortal honors. In thousands 
of humble homes are dwelling heroes and patriots whose names 
shall never die. But greatest among all these great develop- 
ments were the character and fame of Abraham Lincoln whose 
loss the nation still deplores His character is aptly described in 
the words of England's great laureate — written thirty years ago 
— in which he traces the upward steps of some 

" ' Divinely gifted man, 
Whose life in low estate began, 
And on a simple village green ; 

" 'Who breaks his birth's invidious bar, 
And grasps the skirts of happy chance, 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 565 

And breasts the blow of circumstance, 
And grapples with his evil star ; 

•' ' Who makes by force his merit known. 
And lives to clutch the golden keys, 
To mould a mighty State's decrees, 
And shape the whisper of the throne; 

" * And moving up from high to higher, 
Becomes on Fortune's crowning slope 
The pillar of a People's hope, 
The centre of a world's desire-' 

" Such a life and character will be treasured forever 'as the sacred 
possession of the American people and of mankind. In the great 
drama of the rebellion there were two acts. The first was the 
war with its battles and sieges, victories and defeats, its sufferings 
and tears. 

"That act was closing one year ago to-night, and just as the 
curtain was lifting on the second and final act, — the restoration 
of peace and liberty, — just as the curtain was rising upon new 
characters and new events, the evil spirit of the rebellion, in the 
fury of despair, nerved and directed the hand of the assassin to 
strike down the chief character in both. It was no one man who 
killed Abraham Lincoln ; it was the embodied spirit of treason 
and slavery, inspired with fearful, despairing hate, that struck 
him down in the moment of the nation's supremest joy, 

*' Ah, sir, there are times in the history of men and nations, when 
they stand so near the veil that separates mortals from the im- 
mortals, time from eternity, and men from their God, that they 
can almost hear the beatings, and feel the pulsations of the heart 
of the Infinite. Through such a time has this nation passed. When 
two hundred and fifty thousand brave spirits passed from the 
field of honor, through that thin veil, to the presence of God ; 
and when at last its parting folds admitted the martyr President 
to the company of the dead heroes of the republic, the nation 
stood so near the veil, that the whispers of God were heard by 
the children of men. Awe-stricken by his voice, the American 
people knelt in tearful reverence, and made a solemn covenant 
with him, and with each other, that their nation should be saved 
from its enemies, that all its glories should be restored, and on 
the ruins of slavery and treason, the temple of freedom and jus- 
tice should be built, and should survive forever. It remains for 
us, consecrated by the great event, and under a covenant with 
God, to keep that faith, to go forward in the great work until it 



566 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

shall be completed. Following the lead of that great man, and 
obeying the high behests of God, let us remember that, — 

" ' He hath sounded forth a trumpet that shall never call retreat; 
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat; 
Be swift vay soul to answer him; be jubilant my feet; 
For God is marching on.' " 

One of the most popular of Gen. Garfield's eulogies, was upon 
John Winthrop and Samuel Adams, and was delivered December 
19, 1876, the House then having under consideration the follow- 
ing resolution : — 

Ik the Senate of the United States, 
December 19, 1876. 

Resolved hy the Senate, (the House of Representatives concur- 
ring.) 1. That the statues of John Winthrop and Samuel 
Adams are accepted in the name of the United States, and that 
the thanks of Congress are given to the State of Massachu- 
setts for these memorials of two of her eminent citizens, whose 
names are indissolubly associated with the foundation of the re- 
public. 

2. Th:it a copy of these resolutions, engrossed upon parchment 
and duly authenticated, be transmitted to the Governor of Massa- 
chusetts. 

He said : " Mr. Speaker, I regret that illness has made it im- 
possible for me to keep the promise, which I made a few days 
since, to offer some reflections appropriate to this very interest- 
ing occasion. But I cannot let the moment pass without express- 
ing my great satisfaction with the fitting and instructive choice 
which the State of Massachusetts has made, and the manner in 
which her Representatives have discharged their duty in pre- 
senting these beautiful works of art to the Congress of the 
nation. 

" As, from time to time, our venerable and beautiful Hall has 
been peopled Avith statues of the elect of the States, it has 
seemed to me that a third House was being organized within the 
walls of the Capitol — a House whose members have received 
their high credentials at the hands of history, and whose term of 
office will outlast the ages. Year by year, we see the circle of 
its immortal membership enlai"ging ; year by year, we see the 
elect of their country, in eloquent silence, taking their places iu 
this American pantheon, bringing within its sacred circle the 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 567 

wealth of those iiniuovtal memories, which made their lives iUus- 
trioLis; and, year by year, that august assembly is teaching a 
deeper and grander lesson to all who serve their brief hour in 
these more ephemeral Houses of Congress. And now, two places 
of great honor have just been most nobly filled. 

"I can well understand that the State of Massachusetts, embar- 
rassed by her wealth of historic glory, found it difficult to make 
the selection. And while the distinguished gentleman from 
Massachusetts (Mr. Hoar) was so fittingly honoring his State, 
by portraying that happy embarrassment, I was reflecting that 
the sister State of Virginia Avill encounter, if possible, a still 
greater difficulty when she comes to make the selection of her 
immortals. One name I venture to hope she will not select, — 
a name too great for the glory of any one State. I trust she will 
allow us to claim Washington as belonging to all the States, for 
all time. If she shall pass over the great distance that separates 
Washington from all others, I can hardly imagine how she will 
make the choice from her crowded roll. But I have no doubt 
that she will be able to select two who will represent the great 
phases of her history, as happily and worthily as Massachusetts 
is represented, in the choice she has to-day announced. It is 
difficult to imagine a happier combination of great and beneficent 
forces, than Avill be presented by the representative heroes of 
these two great States. 

" Virginia and Massachusetts were the two focal centres from 
which sprang the life-forces of this republic. These were, in 
many ways, complements of each other, each supplying what the 
other lacked, and both uniting to endow the republic with its 
noblest and most enduring qualities. 

" To-day the House has listened with the deepest interest to 
the statement of those elements of priceless value contributed by 
the State of Massachusetts. We have been instructed by the 
clear and masterly analysis of the spirit and character of that 
Puritan civilization, so fully embodied in the lives of Winthrop 
and Adams. I will venture to add, that, notwithstanding all the 
neglect and contempt with which England regarded her Puritans, 
two hundred years ago, the tendency of thought in modern Eno-- 
land is to do justice to that great force which created the Com- 
monwealth, and finally made the British Islands a land of liberty 
and law. Even the great historian Hume was compelled reluc- 
tantly to declare that — 



568 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

" ' The precious spark of liberty had been kindled and was pre- 
served by the Puritans alone ; and it was to this sect that the 
English owe the whole freedom of their constitution.' 

" What higher praise can posterity bestow upon any people than 
to make such a confession ? Having done so much to save liberty 
alive in the mother country, the Puritans planted, upon the 
shores of this New World, that remai'kable civilization w^hose 
growth is the greatness and glory of our republic. 

"Indeed, before Winthrop and his company landed at Salem, 
the Pilgrims were laying the foundation of civil liberty. While 
the Mayflower was passing Cape Cod, and seeking an anchorage, 
in the midst of the storm, her brave passengers sat down in the 
little cabin, and drafted and signed a covenant which contains 
the germ of American liberty. How familiar to the American 
habit of mind are these declarations of the Pilgrim covenant of 
1620, — 

" ' That no act, imposition, law, or ordinance be made or imposed 
upon us at present, or to come, but such as has been or shall be 
enacted by the consent of the body of free men or associates, or 
their representatives, legally assembled.' 

"The New England town was the model, the primary cell, from 
which our republic was evolved. The town meeting was the 
germ of all the parliamentary life and habits of Americans. 

" John Winthrop brought with him the more formal organi- 
zation of New England society ; and, in his long and useful life, 
did more than perhaps any other to direct and strengthen its 
growth. 

" Nothing, therefore, could be more fitting, than for Massachu- 
setts to place in our Memorial Hall the statue of the first of the 
Pui-itans, representing him at the moment when he was stei)ping 
on shore from the ship that brought him from England, and bear- 
ing with him the charter of that first political society which laid 
the foundations of our country ; and that near him should stand 
that Puritan embodiment of the logic of the Revolution, Sanniel 
Adams. I am glad to see this decisive, though tardy, acknowl- 
edgment of his great and signal services to America. I doubt if 
any man equaled Samuel Adams in formulating and uttering the 
fierce, cleai-, and inexorable logic of the Revolution. With our 
present habits of thought, we can hardly realize how great were 
the obstacles to overcome. Not the least was the religious belief 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 569 

of the fathers — that allegiance to rulers was obedience to God. 
The thirteenth chapter of Romans was to many minds a barrier 
against revt)lution stronger than the battalions of George III., — 

" ' Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there 
is no power but of God ; the powers that be are ordained of God. 
Whosoever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance 
of God.' 

" And it was not until the people of that religious age were led 
to see that they might obey God and still establish liberty, in 
spite of kingly despotism, that they were willing to engage in 
war against one who called himself ' king by the grace of God." 
The men who pointed out the pathway to freedom by the light 
of religion as well as of law, were the foremost promoters of 
American independence. And of these, Adams was unquestion- 
ably chief. 

" It must not be forgotten that, while Samuel Adams was writ- 
ing the great argument of liberty in Boston, almost at the same 
time Patrick Henry was formulating the same doctrines in 
Virginia. It is one of the grandest facts of that grand time that 
the colonies Avere thus brought, by an almost universal consent, 
to tread the same pathway, and reach the same great conclu- 
sions. 

"But most remarkable of all is the fact that, throughout all that 
period, filled as it was with the revolutionary spirit, the great 
men who guided the storm, exhibited the most wonderful power 
of self-restraint. If I were to-day to state the single quality that 
appears to me most admirable among the fathers of the Revolu- 
tion, I should say it was this : that amidst all the passions of war, 
waged against a perfidious enemy from beyond the sea, aided by 
a savage enemy on our own shores, our fathers exhibited so won- 
derful a restraint, so great a care to observe the forms of law, to 
protect the rights of the minority, to preserve all those great 
rights that had come down to them from the common law, so 
that when they had achieved their independence, they were still 
a law-abiding people. 

"In that fiery meeting in the Old South Church, after the Bos- 
ton massacre, when, as the gentleman from Massachusetts has 
said, three thousand voices almost lifted the roof from the church, 
in demanding the removal of the regiments. Lt is noted by the his- 
torian that there was one, solitary, sturdy "■ hay " in the vast as- 

72 



570 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS. 

semblage; and Samuel Adams scrupulously recorded the fact 
that there was one dissentient. It would have been a mortal 
offense against his notions of justice and good order, if that one 
dissentient had not had his place in the record. And, after the 
regiments had been removed, and after the demand had been 
acceded to that the soldiers who had fired upon citizens should 
be delivered over to the civil authorities, to be dealt with accord- 
ing to law, Adams was the first to insist and demand that the 
best legal talent in the colony should be put forward to defend 
those murderers ; and John Adams and Josiah Quincy were de- 
tailed for tlie purpose of defending them. Men were detailed 
whose hearts and souls were on fire with the love of the popular 
cause ; but the men of Massachusetts would have despised the 
two advocates, if they had not given their whole strength to the 
defense of the soldiers. 

" Mr. Speaker, this great lesson of self-restraint is taught in the 
whole history of the Revolution ; and it is this lesson that to-day, 
more perhaps, than any other we have seen, we ought to take 
most to heart. Let us seek liberty and peace, under the law ; 
and, following the pathway of our fathers, preserve the great 
legacy they have committed to our keeping." 

Gen. Garfield was appointed on many important special com- 
mittees by Congress, he was sent to Louisiana by the President to 
report upon the political condition of the people with reference 
to reconstruction, he was chosen one of the High Commission 
to which was referred the contested presidential election in 1876, 
and which gave Rutherford B. Hayes the seat. 

He delivered many speeches on public occasions in different 
parts of the United States, and conducted important cases before 
the Supreme Court of the United States. 

His nomination for the presidency by the Republican party at 
Chicago in June, 1880, was a surprise both to him and to the 
country. Gen. Garfield was a delegate to the convention, and was 
an open advocate of the nomination of Hon. John Sherman of 
Ohio. The party, however, was in danger of a most serious di- 
vision, in which the adherents of Gen. U. S. Grant and of Hon. 
James G. Blaine were the contestants. The friends of each were 
so strong and so bitter in their opposition to the other, that the 
only safe measure to adopt, was found in the nomination of an 
unobjectionable man who was allied with neither faction. Hence 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 



571 



with great enthusiasm they turned to Gen. Garfield. He was 
elected by a strong majority both of the people and of the Elec- 
toral College, and Avas inaugurated at Washington, March 4, 
1881, amid great rejoicing, the city being crowded with parades, 
vocal with bands of music, and brillant with flags, banners, dec- 
orations, and pyrotechnics. 




THE WHITE HOUSE. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

Anecdote. — Territory of the Republic. — Population. — Rapid Growth. — Public Buildings. 
— The Navv. — The National Flaij. — The Army. — Boldness of the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. — The Steamboat. — The Railway. — Cotton. — Cflal. — The Telej^raph. — In- 
dia-Rubber. — AuKsthetfcs. — Matciies. — Gas. — Tiie Printing-Press. — Metallic Pens. — 
The r)a,t^nerrcotype. — Sewing-Machines. — Manufactures in General. — The Teleplione, 
the PhoiKigraph, and the Electric Light. —The Centennial Jubilee. — Statistics of Prog- 
ress. —Wonderful Development in Art, Sciences, Agriculture, and Manufactures. — The 
Influence of the United States on other Nations. 

A GENTLEMAN Connected with the United States Govern- 
ment was dining, in London, with a large party of distinguished 
Englishmen. Some one inquired of him, " How many States 
are there in the American Union ? " 

He calmly replied, " I do not know." There was a pause. 
Surprise was manifested that he should not be informed upon 
so vital a point. At length an explanation was called for. He 
very calmly said, — 

" When I left New York for a tour up the Nile, six months 
ago, there were thirty-four States in the Union. How many 
have since been added, I cannot tell." 

Indeed, it is very difficult for any one to bear in mind the 
number of States over which the stars and stripes now float. It 
is like remembering the sum of asteroids in our planetary sys- 
tem when a new one is discovered every few months. 

Upon the establishment of this Government, as an independ- 
ent power among the nations, there were but thirteen States in 
the confederacy. Now we count thirty-eight States and ten 
Territories. 

The territory embraced in the thirteen original States covered 
an area of eight hundred and twenty thousand, six hundred and 
eighty square miles. We have made such vast accessions, that, 
at the present time, the area belonging to the nation embraces 
three million, five hundred and fifty-nine thousand and ninety- 
one square miles. We have increased fourfold. 

The first census was taken in 1790. There were then three 
million, nine hundred and twenty-nine thousand, three hundred 

572 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 573 

and twenty-eight inhabitants. Of these six hundred and ninety- 
seven thousand, six hundred rnd ninety-six were slaves.* 

At the last census, the popidatiou numbered fifty million, one 
hundred and fifty-two thousand, eiglit hundred and fifty-six. Not 
a slave now treads our soil. By an amendment of the Constitu- 
tion, it has been declared, that the right of suffrage shall not be 
withheld from any citizen of the United States " on account of 
race, color, or previous condition of servitude." 

Our Government has passed through as severe an ordeal as it 
is possible for any nation to be subjected to, and has emerged 
from it triumphantly. It is not too much to say, that, at the 
present moment, Ave have the strongest government on this 
globe, — a government which gives promise of perpetuity above 
any other. There is not a throne in Europe which is not men- 
aced with perils far beyond any which we contemplate. 

A century ago, there were but a few insignificant townfj scat- 
tered along the coast from Maine to Georgia. Maine was 
almost an unbroken solitude, with but here and there a hamlet 
upon her rugged shores. Savages roamed through all the inte- 
rior of New York. Pittsburg was but a military post. The 
largest part of Virginia was an unexplored wilderness, mostly 
covered with a dense and gloomy forest. It required the labori- 
ous journey of twelve days, to pass from Baltimore to Pittsburg. 
Micliigan was deemed a barren waste, utterly worthless. As to 
the regions beyond the Mississippi, even the imaginations of men 
had hardly travelled so far. 

The great North-west, now the abode of refinement and cul- 
ture, and waving AAdth the richest harvests, Avas then unexplored. 
St. Louis Avas a frontier settlement scarcely knoAvn. As late as 
1803, it was written, — 

" The Missouri has been navigated for twenty-five hundred 
miles. There appears a probability of a communication by this 
channel Avith the western ocean." 

The planters of Virginia were feudal lords, trampling upon 
the rights of the industrial classes, who Avere kept in stolid igno- 
rance. In 1671 Gov. Berkeley boasted that Virginia had nei-'* 



* Enc. Am., article United States. Mr. Bancroft estimates that there were less than 
three millions of inhabitants when the Declaration of Independence was proclaimed. 



574 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS- PROGRESS. 




CAIU-KNTEKS' HAM.. 



ther "printing-presses, colleges, nor schools." The land was 
held by a few proprietors. The estate of Lord Fairfax embraced 

five million acres. And 
yet Virginia, to whom 
we are indebted for both 
Washington and Jeffer- 
son, co-operated in per- 
fect union with Massa- 
chusetts, in resisting the 
tyranny of the British 
crown. 

At the beginning of 
the Revolution, the 
Colonies possessed few 
public edifices noted for 
architectural grandeur, 
or which woiUd bear 
comparison in historic 
interest with the famed 
palaces and castles of 
the Old World; yet 

some of the plain structures of those days were hallowed by 

scenes the memory of 

which will be cherished 

as long as the love of 

freedom lives in the 

heart of luan. Promi- 
nent among these hon- 
ored memorials of the 

past is Carpenters' Hall 

in Philadelphia, where 

assembled the First Con- 
tinental Congress, and 

whose walls echoed to 

the fiery eloquence of 

Patrick Henry and John 

Adams. Thisrehc of the 

past is still preserved 

with reverential care, 

and contains interesting indepkm>fkce H^LL 

mementos of Revolutionary days, which may be seen by visitors. 




ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 



57o5 



Still more famous is Independence Hall, where the Second 
Continental Congress held its sittings, where the delegates of 
the United Colonies discussed the great question upon which 
hung the destinies of America, and from whose steps was read 
the Declaration of Independence. The furniture is the same as 
that used by Congress, portraits of the country's heroes crowd 
the walls, and relics of our early history are everywhere. In 




LIIiEKTi: BELL. 



Congress Hall, in the second story, Washington delivered his 
farewell address. From the steeple a fine panoramic view of the 
whole city can be had. This Hall still attracts the footsteps of 
pilgrims to the shrines of liberty ; and the old bell which rung 
out a joyful and defiant peal on the 4th of July, 1776, now 
cracked and useless, l)ut with its grand prophetic motto still 
intact, finds an honored resting-place within its walls. 



57G 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 



While the citizens of Philadelphia proudly cherish Independ- 
ence Hall, Bostonians look with equal jDride upon Faneuil Hall. 
Hither the citizens of the old Puritan town involuntarily turn 
their steps in times of national peril ; and from its platform go 
patriotic utterances which stir the heart of the Commonwealth, 
and find a response in distant States. Here Webster and Everett 
and Phillips and Sumner held the attention of the critical 
audiences of the modern Athens, and swayed the multitude at 
will. 

Now stately buildings devoted to religion, to art, and to edu- 




FANEUIL HALL. 



cation, are rising all over the land ; while State vies with State, 
and city with city, in adorning the edifices devoted to govern- 
mental use. 

In 1776, we had no navy, no national banner. On the 14th 
of November of that year, Paul Jones raised our first naval flag, • 
under a salute of thirteen guns. This flag, which consisted of 
thirteen stripes and a pine-tree with a rattlesnake coiled at the 
roots, was unfurled at the mast-head of the frigate " Alfied," of 
forty-four guns, lying at anchor off Chestnut-street Wharf in 
Philadelx)hia. 



ONE HUNDRED TEARS' PROGRESS. 577 

" 'Twas Jones, Paul Jones, who first o'er Delaware's tide, 
From Alfred's main displayed Columbia's pride; 
The stripes of freedom proudly waved on high, 
While shouts of freedom rang for liberty." 

England then had a fleet of a thousand sails. With five small 
vessels, carrying in all but one hundred guns, we entered upon a 
naval conflict with that gigantic power. 

On the 14th of June, 1777, Congress established our present 
national flag, with its alternate stripes of red and white and its 
constellation of stars. It is the most beautiful flag ever un- 
furled to the breeze. In its folds are enshrined the dearest 
rights of humanity. Paul Jones was the fii'st to spread that ban- 
ner from the frigate " Ranger." 

Triumphantly he bore it across the Atlantic, through battle 
and through storm, and, with courage which could not have been 
exceeded, sent dismay through all the cities and towns which 
lined the British coast. 

In February, 1778, France was the first nation to recognize the 
independence of the United States. On the 22d of February, 
1778, the stars and stripes, borne aloft by Paul Jones, were for 
the first time honored with a national salute by the French fleet 
in Quiberon Bay.* 

There is a beautiful lithograph, hanging upon many parlor- 
walls, which virtually exhibits the whole military power of the 
United States but about two hundred and fifty 3'ears ago. This 
army consisted of ten men. The hthograph is entitled, — 

" THE MAKCH OF MILES STANDISH. 

" Just in the gi-ay of the dawn, as the mists uprose fi-om the meadows, 
There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering village of Plymouth; 
Clanging and clicking of arms, and the order imperative ' Forward P 
Given in tone suppressed, a tramp of feet, and then silence. 
Figm'es ten, in the mist, marched slowly out of the village. 
Standish the stalwart it was, with eight of his valorous army, 
Led by their Indian guide, by Hobomok, friend of the white men, 
Northward marchmg to quell the sudden revolt of the savage, f 

One hundred 3'ears ago, the farmers of Lexington and Con- 
cord proved that the spirit of Miles Standish still pervaded the 

* Life of Paul Jones. Series of Pioneers and Patriots, 
t Longfellow. 




'"'''"'^'Ii^'"''''''''''^''""''i'''''.'''l'''"'^^ 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 579 

land ; and the fields won by the fathers in toil and dangei were 
handed down by the sons in title-deeds written in blood. The 
right of man to defend to the last extreme his life, liberty, and 
property, was there proclaimed by deeds not to be misunder- 
stood ; and the lesson has been slowly winning its way among 
the nations. To-day, Lexington and Concord are among the 
most inspiring watchwords of liberty. 

Now let foreign invasion venture upon our shores, and oui 
armies would not be numbered by thousands, or hundreds of 
thousands, but by millions. 

It is not too much to say, that there is not another nation 
upon the globe so capable of repelhng invasion as our own. 
Europe combined could not conquer these United States. 

A hundred years ago, New York City had a population of 
about twenty thousand ; Boston had fifteen or eighteen thou- 
sand. Philadelphia was what would now be considered an un- 
important town of about twenty thousand inhabitants, clinging 
to the banks of the Delaware. Baltimore was a mere village. 
There were no large towns farther south. 

A stage-coach ran from the Jersey side of the Hudson to 
Philadelphia in two days. It was ordinarily an eight-days' 
voyage in a sloop^ from New York to Albany. From Boston to 
New York, it was a week's journey in the stage-coach.* In 
1777, Congress me*-, in Baltimore. John Adams, in his diary, 
gives an account of his fatiguing journey to that "far-away 
country." It took three weeks of horseback-riding. 

A bolder deed was never performed on earth, than wlien, 
under these circumstances, fifty-one met in Philadelphia, in 
July, 1776, and there, in the name of these thirteen feeble Colo- 
nies, threw down the gage of battle to the empire of Great 
Britain, then the most powerful nation upon the globe. As we 
now contemplate the scene, it seems as though the chances were 
a hundred to one that the armies and fleets of Great Britain 
would, in a single campaign, crush out all opposition, and that 
every signer of the Declaration of Independence would swing 
upon the gallows. 

In the year 1807, Robert Fulton ascended the Hudson in his 
newly-constructed steamboat, " The Clermont," of a hundred 

* First Century of the Republic. Harper's Magazine for 1874, p, 874. 



580 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

and sixty tons' burden. We shall not here enter upon the 
vexed question of the origin of steamboats. It is sufficient to 
say, that then and there commenced the era of steamboat navi- 
gation in the United States. In 1811, the steamboat " Orleans " 
was launched at Pittsburg, and descended to New Orleans in 
fourteen days. This was the first steamer which ever floated 
upon the waters of the Mississippi. It would be difiBcult, at the 
present time, to count our floating palaces, and the thLiusands 
who crowd their gorgeous saloons. There is no other nation 
which can exhibit, in this respect, such a spectacle of prosperity, 
wealth, and refinement. 

The first railway in the United States was constructed in 
Massachusetts, in the year 1826. It ran from Milton to Quincy, 
a distance of two miles. The cars were drawn by horses. 

The first passenger railway was the Baltimore and Ohio, fif- 
teen miles in length. It was opened in 1830. Its cars were 
drawn by horses for one year, and then a locomotive was placed 
upon the track. 

The next line was from Albany to Schenectady, sixteen miles 
in length. This also was first run by horse-power, and then by 
steam. The number of miles of railroad in the United States 
is now to be counted by thousands. Every year they are in- 
creasing with wonderful rapidity. Our immense continent is 
embroidered with them. The iron horse, " whose sinews are 
steel, and whose provender is fire," rushes with undiminished 
speed, regardless of the Rocky Mountains, from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific shore. 

The fastest time ever as yet made in America was in driving 
a train over the New-York Central, from Rochester to Syracuse, 
eighty-one miles, in sixty-one minutes.* In view of tl e present 
condition of railroads, it is amusing to read the following state- 
ment in one of the English quarterly reviews of as late date 
as 1819 : — 

'"■ We are not partisans of the fantastic projects relative to 
established institutions ; and we cannot but laugh at an idea so 
impracticable as that of a road of iron, upon which one may be 
conducted by steam. Can anj^ thing be more utterly absurd, or 
more laughable, than a steam-proj^elled wagon, moving twice as 

* Harper's Magazine, vol. 1. p. 84. 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 581 

fast as our mail-coaches? It is much more possible to travel 
from Woolwich to the Arsenal by the aid of a Congreve rock- 
et." 

In the year 1794, Eli Whitney patented the cotton-engine, 
usually called by abbreviation the cotton-gin. Before that time, 
cotton was almost worthless in consequence of the difficulty of 
separating the seed from the fibre. In the cotton-boll there is 
but about one-quarter of fibre. This great invention gave a 
new impulse to the industry not only of our own country, but 
of the civilized world. The annual crop was then but about 
four thousand pounds. The census of 1859 reported a crop of 
two thousand million pounds. It would be difficult to compute 
the number of factories which the cotton-crop has reared 
throughout Christendom, or the hundreds of thousands of busy 
hands it has employed. 

Before the invention of the cotton-gin, cotton was sold at fort}'- 
cents a pound. It often required the labor of a day to separate 
one pound of the fibre from the seed. 

In the year 1874, it is reported that there were nine million four 
hundred and fifteen thousand, three hundred and eighty-three 
spindles employed in the United States, and five hundred and 
sixty-seven million, five hundred and eighty-three thousand, 
eight hundred and seventy-three pounds of cotton were con- 
sumed. This made about thirteen and a half pounds for every 
man, woman, and child.* 

Many can remember when they first saw a fire built of bitu- 
minous or anthracite coal. Little was it imagined, in the daj^s 
of the Revolution, that beneath the majestic forests which cov- 
ered the Lehigh Valley and the Mauch Chunk Mountain, mines 
of richness were stored, beyond all the fabled wealth of Ormuz 
or of Ind. 

It was many years after the independence of our country was 
achieved, when a solitary hunter, drenched with the rain which 
was falling in torrents, was returning at night weary to his 
cabin. He struck his foot against a black stone. Its appearance 
was so peculiar that he picked it up, and carried it to his hut. 

An intelligent man happened to call there from Philadelphia. 
He took the stone to a laboratory. Its true character was 

* The First Century of the Kepublic. Harper's Magazine, No. 299, p. 715. 



682 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

ascertained. The mountain was explored, the mines opeied; 
and now more millions of tons are annually consumed than can 
easily be computed. Coal has become the great motive-power 
of all our physical energies. It is impossible to form an ade- 
quate estimate of its value. 

In 1776, there was no mode of signalling news, but by beacon- 
fires, or by arms of wood, swinging from elevated buildings. 
Abraham could send a letter to Lot on an Arabian charger as 
rapidly as could Washington, after the lapse of many thousand 
years, transmit a note from Mount Vernon to Jefferson at Mon- 
ticello. 

In the year 1832, Morse commenced his experiments in teleg- 
raphy. He informed the writer, that his attention was first 
drawn to the subject by conversation at the dinner-table, on board 
a packet as he was crossing the Atlantic. His first patent was 
obtained in 1840. It was four years before he could inspire the 
community with sufficient confidence in his plans to enable him 
to raise funds to construct a line from Washington to Baltimore. 

Prof. Morse of course availed himself of scientific discoveries 
previously made. It was through his own persistent genius, 
that those discoveries were applied to purposes of practical 
utility. And now the electric telegraph is one of the necessities 
of the age. Information runs along the insulated wires more 
rapidly than the earth revolves upon its axis. All Christendom is 
braided with the electric lines. They rest ten thousand fathoms 
deep upon the bed of the Atlantic. In our morning papers, we 
read the record of events which occurred the evening before in 
London and Paris. 

In the year 1776, Priestley suggested that India-rubber was an 
excellent article "for removing pencil-marks from paper." That 
was all that it was supposed then to be good for. Charles 
Goodyear, with persistence against discouragements which 
places him in the front rank of this world's heroes, has made 
India-rubber one of the necessities of our civilization. 

Among the wonderful discoveries of modern times, it is diffi- 
cult to state what is the most wonderful. But nothing, perhaps, 
could be more incredible than the statement that a man could be 
placed in a placid sleep, and thus be subjected, without any con- 
scious pain, to the most terrible surgical operation. The knife 
can cut through the quivering nerves, and the saw can sever the 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 583 

bones, while the patient sleeps in a dreamless sliimoer. Tu the 
year 1846, Drs. Morton and Jackson of Boston introduced those 
ansBsthetics, now in common use, which have proved one of the 
greatest blessings ever conferred upon humanity. The amount 
of suffering they saved in our late civil war no imagination can 
gauge. 

There are but few who can now remember the old-fashioned 
tinder-box, with its flint, steel, tinder of burnt linen, and splint 
dipped in brimstone. Lucifer matches are now used throughout 
the civilized world. They are made by machines which will cut 
thirty thousand in a minute, and are sold by the hogshead.* 

A hundred years ago, illuminating gas was unknown, save as 
the result of chemical experiments in the laboratory. It was 
not until the year 1825, that the streets of New York were 
lighted by gas. Boston had adopted the improvement three 
years before. And now it is hardly too much to say, that all our 
cities and large towns are illumined by the flame of the jet of 
gas. The extinguishment of that flame would plunge a large 
portion of our Republic into darkness. 

The improvements in the printing-press almost surpass cre- 
dence. The press used by Benjamin Frankhn was a clumsy ma- 
chine of lever power, laboriously worked by hand. 

The web perfecting press of Hoe receives upon a cylinder a 
roll of paper four and a half miles in length. From this roll it 
cuts and prints on both sides from twelve to fifteen thousand 
sheets in an hour, amounting to the almost incredible number of 
more than two hundred a minute, or more than three each sec- 
ond. The machine is twenty feet long, six wide, and seven 
high. Mr. Hoe, the inventor, is an American. Three of the 
machines are used by leading printing-offices in London, and five 
are now in process of being built for offices in the United States, 
and two for Australia. 

Another printing-machine, called the "Victory," will " damp, 
print, cut, fold, and deliver from six to eight thousand per hour 
of an eight-page newspaper of fifty inches square." f 

Many can remember when they first saw a metallic pen. 
Scarcely the third of a century ago, they were regarded as a 



* Harper's Magazine, vol. 1. p. 391 

I The First Century of the Kepublic. Harper's Magazine, No. 298, p. 534. 



584 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

great novelty, and were sold for fourteen cents each. Tlie me- 
tallic pen has now become one of the necessary appliances of 
civilization ; and those of most perfect manufacture can be pur- 
chased at less than a dollar a gross. 

In January, 1839, M. Daguerre announced to the world his 
great discovery. It is very unfair to rob a man of the merit of 
an invention or discover}^ because he avails himself of the ex- 
periments of those who have preceded him. As early as 17"^G, 
chemists knew that fused chloride of silver is blackened by 
exposure to the sun's rays. For many years chemists were 
experimenting upon this subject, and ascertaining new facts. 

We have not space even to name the numerous processes by 
which this most beautiful art is now made effectual. Every 
year progress is made, and the effects produced are more won- 
derful and perfect. It is said that the first daguerreotype from 
life was taken by Prof. John W. Draper of New York, in 1839. 
It was so announced in the London and Edinburgh Philosophical 
Magazine of March, 1810. Prof. Draper also succeeded, in 1840, 
in obtaining a photograph of the moon.* 

Almost all inventions are the result of progressive develop- 
ment, rather than of sudden inspiration. This is emphatically 
true of the sewing-machine. It is generally regarded as an 
American invention, Avith which the name of Elias HoAve is 
indissolubly associated. Two thousand patents for sewing- 
machines have been granted in the United States. 

The success of the seAving-machine is to be dated from about 
the year 1850. It is estimated that forty milhons of capital are 
now employed in their manufacture. In the year 1873, six 
hundred thousand machines were made and sold. They are noAV 
found in almost every dAvelling. 

As to manufactures in general, there is no array of figures 
which can convey to the reader an adequate idea of their 
growth in our country Avithin the last century. 

In 1790, it Avas estimated that the annual value of the manu- 
factures of the United States amounted to twenty million dol- 
lars. According to the last census, it is estimated, that the value 
of the manufactures for 1870 amounted to the sum, above finite 
comprehension, of four thousand eight hundred and thirty-nine 

* First Century of the Republic. Harper's Magazine, No. 298, p. 540. 



58G ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

million dollars, involving an outlay of capital of two thousand 
one hundred and eighteen million, two hundred and eight thou- 
sand dollars. 

Over two and a half million persons, of twenty years of age 
and upward, were employed in these manufactures. A little 
over five million were engaged in agriculture, and about one 
million in trade.* 

Since the days when an electric current was first used to trans- 
mit telegraphic messages, great discoveries have been made in 
regard to currents of electricity. The speaking telephone com- 
bines in its properties a number of very interesting scientific 
facts. By this instrument the exact words, tone, and pitch of 
the human voice and all other sounds may be reproduced at a 
distance, so as to be perfectly understood. The essential princi- 
ple is a small iron plate which vibrates with the sound, and these 
vibrations are conducted by an electric current, and reproduced 
at the other end of the line by means of another iron plate, 
which vibrates in the same way as the first, and thus speaks to 
the listening ear. In the talking phonograph, the invention of 
Mr. Thomas A. Edison, the vibrations of the sound or voice are 
impressed on a permanent substance, such as a sheet of tinfoil, 
and can be reproduced at any time. This is a purely mecjianical 
machine, as no use is made of electricity. One of the latest uses 
of electricity is for the production of permanent light. Investi- 
gations have been made for this purpose ; and it has been discov- 
ered that the electric current can be divided, and a great number 
of lights produced by a current of electricity generated from 
a single source. The cost of maintaining the electric light is 
much less than that of gas. 

It was decided to have an international exhibition in 1876 on 
a scale of grandeur which the world never before witnessed, in 
commemoration of the centennial anniversary of the birth of our 
Republic. It was appropriately held in Philadelphia, where the 
Republic was born and cradled. 

There then were exhibited, on a scale of unprecedented magni- 
tude, the resources of our own country, and its progress in those 
arts which elevate and ennoble humanity. Commissioners were 
appointed from each State and Territory to superintend the plan. 

* First Century of the Republic. Harper's Magazine, vol. 1. p. 121. 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 



587 



The expense, which was estimated at first at ten million dollars, 
but afterward reduced to about seven million, was easily met; 
the State of Pennsylvania and City of Philadelphia alone con- 
tributing upwards of two and a half millions. All the govern- 
ments of Europe, and some in Asia, and the other divisions of 
the world, were invited to co-operate in the celebration by send- 
ing commissioners with the richest display of their own manufac- 
tures. All products brought into the ports of the United States 
for this purpose were declared free of duty. 

The exhibition continued for six months, from May to Novem- 
ber, and every preparation was made for the comfort and con- 
venience of visitors. 

The buildings devoted to the exhibition were projected on a 
magnificent scale, as will be seen from the following description. 
First in size and importance was 

THE MAIN EXHIBITION BmLDING. 

This building was in the form of a parallelogram, extending 
east and west 1,880 feet in length, and north and south 464 feet 
in width. The larger portion of the structure was one story in 
height, the main cornice upon the outside being 45 feet above 




MAIN EXUIllITIUN I5UII,1>I>;G. 



the ground, and the interior being 70 feet. At the centre of the 
longer sides were projections 416 feet in length, and in the cen- 
tre of the shorter sides of the building were projections 216 feet 
in length. The main entrances were provided with arcades upon 
the ground floor, and central fagades, extending to the height of 
90 feet. Upon the corners of the building there were four towers 
75 feet in height ; and between the towers and the central pro- 



588 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 



jectionsi, or entrances, a lower roof was introduced, showing a 
cornice 24 feet above the ground. In order to obtain a central 
feature for the building as a whole, the roof over the central 
part, for 184 feet square, was raised above the surrounding por- 
tion, and four towers, 48 feet square, rising to 120 feet in height, 
were introduced at the corners of the elevated roof. 

AKT GALLEKY. 

This is located on a line parallel with and northward of the 
Main Exhibition Building, on the most commanding portion of 
the great Lansdowne plateau, and looks southward over the city. 
Like the Horticultural Building, it is intended that it shall remain 




AltT GAI.LEKV. 



in permanence as an ornament of Fairmount Park. The entire 
structure is in the modern Renaissance ; and the materials are 
granite, glass, and iron. The structure is 365 feet in length, 210 
feet in width, and 59 feet in height, over a spacious basement 
twelve feet in height, surmounted by a dome, the summit of 
which is 150 feet above the ground. All the galleries and cen- 
tral hall are lighted from the sides. The pavilions and central 
hall were designed especially for exhibition of sculpture. 



590 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

HOETICULTURAL BUILDING. 

This is an extremely ornate and commodious building, and 
was designed to contain specimens of ornamental trees, shrubs, 
and flowers. It is located a short distance north of the Main 
Building and Art Gallery, and has a commanding view of the 
Schuylkill River and the north-western portion of the city. The 
main conservatory, the angles of which are adorned with eight 
ornamental fountains, is 230 by 80 feet, and 55 feet high, sur- 
mounted by a lantern 170 feet long, 20 feet wide, and 14 feet 
high. 

AGEICULTUEAL BUILDING. 

This structure stood north of the Horticultural Building, and 
was composed of wood and glass. The nave was 820 feet in 
length by 125 feet in width, with a height of 75 feet from the 
floor to the point of the arch. The central transept was of the 
same height, with a breadth of 100 feet ; and the two end tran- 
septs were 70 feet high, and 80 feet wide. 

MACHINERY BUILDING. 

This structure was located at a distance of 550 feet from the 
west front of the Main Exhibition Building. The north front 
was upon the same line as that of the Main Exhibition Building, 
thus presenting a frontage of 3,824 feet from the east to the 
west ends of the exhibition buildings, upon the principal avenue 
within the grounds. The entire area covered by the building 
was fourteen acres. It was lit entirely by side-lights, and stood 
lengthwise nearly east and west. 

The following is a summary of the ground covered by the 
various buildings: Main Building, 21.47 acres; Art Gallery, 1.5 
acres; Machinery Hall, 14 acres; Horticultural Hall, 1.5 acres; 
Agricultural Hall, 10.15 acres ; total, 48.62 acres. 

TABULATED REVIEW. 

The wonderful growth of the United States since this century 
began, cannot be understood or appreciated without great research 
and close thought. But a partially tabulated statement concern- 
ing some of the more important features of the nation's progress 
will assist the student of our history, and give an outline of our 
condition to the busy reader who cannot afford the time for a 
more detailed search. 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 



591 



The territory now occupied by the United States has all been 
purchased by the inhabitants from some European power, as 
follows : — 



late. 


Acquisition. 


Area sq. m. 


Cost 


Per acre. 


From. 


1776 


13 States 


421,000 
1,172,000 

60,000 
123,000 
376,000 
280,000 
546,000 

46,000 
580,000 


$70,000,000 

15,000,000 

5,000,000 

27,500,000 

10,000,000 

15,000,000 
Acquired 
7,500,000 


28 cts. 

2 cts. 
1 2 cts. 
32 cts. 

4 cts. 

4 cts. 
2 cts. 


Eno-land 


1803 


Xiouisiana 


France. 


1819 


Florida 


Spain. 

Indians. 

Mexico. 


1829- 
1845 


Indian Territories... 
Te.xas 


1846 


Oregon 


England. 
Mexico. 


1848 


California 


1853 


New Mexico 


Mexico. 


1867 


Alaska 


Russia. 




Total 






3,604,000 


$1 50,000,000 





The territory of the United States is now larger than the 
whole of Europe. 

The population was in — 





White. 


Colored. 


Total. 


1800 
1880 


4,304,500 

43,402,408 


1,001,400 
6,577,497 


5,305,900 
50,152,866 



Fourteen per cent, of the population are European emigrants, 
and the sexes are divided as follows, 102 males to every 100 
females. 

In the war with the Rebellion, 1861 to 1865, 581,000 men were 
destroyed. The Northern army contained 2,653,000 men, in- 
cluding 186,000 negroes, and the Southern army in 1864 had 
549,000 men. 

The Indians are steadily diminishing in numbers and soon will 
be extinct. In 1836 the Indians numbered 333,000, and in 
1880 a little less than 300,000. 

The United States has a coast line in length equal to half the 
circumference of the globe, there being 10,300 miles on tlie 
Atlantic coast, and 2,300 on the Pacific coast. 

At present there are fifty cities of greater magnitude than 
Philadelphia was eighty years ago. 

The criminal statistics show that the highest ratio of criminals 
to the population was in 1869, then the rate was nearly one to 
every 800 inhabitants. In 1880, it was nearly one to 1,290 in- 



592 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

habitants, a very marked decrease. Foreigners number only 
fourteen per cent, of the population, and yet furnish thirty-three 
per cent, of the criminals. 

The agricultural increase of the nation has been enormous 
since the extension of railroads into the Western States and 
Territories. From 1875 to 1879, the sales of land by the gov- 
ernment averaged 7,000,000 acres annually, and the sales have 
largely increased since that time. The land grants to railroads 
in the twenty years, from 1860 to 1880, have averaged about 
seventeen millions of acres a year. The aggregate of all the lands 
actually settled and reclaimed from the wilderness, from 1830 to 
1880, exceeds in territory the whole of France, Spain, Portugal, 
and Great Britain. The area still left for settlement is more 
than twenty times as large as the territory of the British Islands. 
All of which will doubtless be taken up within twenty years. 

The average production of grain is in excess of 58 bushels to 
every inhabitant of the country. The exportation of grain in 
1880 was about 220,000,000 bushels. The grain harvested in 
1879 was reported officially as follows: Wheat, 448,756,630 
bushels; Indian corn, 1,547,901,790 bushels; oats, 363,761,320 
bushels; potatoes, 181,626,400 bushels; hay, 35,493,000 tons ; 
cotton, 2,367,540,900 pounds; tobacco, 391,278,350 pounds. 
The yearly average value of the ci'ops per acre is about $14.50. 
The value of land has been gieatly enhanced by the railroad 
competition, which enables a farmer to send his wheat from 
Chicago or .St. Louis to New York or Boston, for eight cents per 
bushel, and land it in England for twelve cents per bushel. 

The cotton fields cover an area as large as the territory of 
Prussia, and corn and wheat occupy a space equally as large. 
Great Britain takes about one third of the cotton crop (1880), 
and one third is manufactured at home. The remaining portion 
is sent to the European continent. Vineyards are extending 
rapidly on the Pacific Slope, and in the Mississippi Valley. 
There are 150,000 acres under vines. The vintage in 1879 
was about 21,000,000 gallons. 

In 1810, the exports of the United States were 1,000,000 bar- 
rels of flour, 90,000 casks of pork, 150,000 tons of cotton, and 
120 barrels of rice, which is but the merest item compared with 
vast shipments now made. The value of the grain exported in 
1879 was in excess of $200,000,000. The value of the live stock 
raised in 1879 was $1,775,000,000. The average number of cat- 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 593 

tie slaughtered per year, from 1875 to 1881, is nearly 8,000,000 
head. 

There are about 250,000 head sent yearly to England, having 
a value of 140,000,000. 

The slaughter of hogs is 4,500,000 yearly, of which number 
one third are killed in Chicago. Sheep raising seems to be on 
the decline in the number of head, and on the increase in the 
quantity and value of the wool. 

The largest sheep farm is among others nearly its equal, at 
Albuquerque, New Mexico, where there are 500,000 sheep, and 
the farm contains 30 square miles. The largest cattle farm is 
in Texas and contains 4,000,000 acres, and supports 2,225,000 
cattle. The largest wheat farms are in California, where one 
farmer has 90,000 acres under cultivation, the average crop is 
13 bushels per acre, which is an average less than one half that 
per acre of the small farms of Great Britain. 

The farms of the United States, with the personal property 
used on them, are valued at '$12,000,000,000. The sum paid 
yearly for farm wages is in excess of $400,000,000. 

The United States at present produces 480,000 tons of butter, 
and 130,000 tons of cheese. The increase in the number of acres 
under cultivation is over 3,000,000 per year. 

The shipping of the nation is in a sad slate of decline, owing 
to bad legislation. From 1830 to 1880, the ship-building in- 
terests were very important, and avei'aged 40,000 tons annually. 
Now the foreign trade is nearly all done by foreign steamship 
lines. The American Marine in 1881 stands 16,830 sailing 
vessels, 4,717 steam vessels. On the Mississippi and its affluents 
there are 1,100 steamboats which carry 10,000,000 tons of freight 
every year. 

The total exports of merchandise from June 30, 1879, to June 
30, 1880, was $850,866,058. The total imports in that time of 
merchandise, was $667,954,746. 

Until within twenty years nearly all the manufactories of the 
nation were in New England, and not until as late as 1876 did 
the manufactories make articles for export. The growth of manu- 
facturing may be seen in the statement of the amount of capital 
invested at different periods. In 1850 there were $1,020,000,000 
invested in mills, etc. In 1860 there were $1,890,000,000. In 
1870, $4,230,000,000. In 1880, $5,500,000,000. 

The average rate of wages among operatives old and young in 
the United States is about $455 per year. 



59i ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

The value of cotton goods manufuctured in the United States 
is officially given as follows : Namely, 1831, $40,000,000, 1860, 
$115,000,000, and in 1877, $200,000,000. 

Massachusetts manufactures more cotton goods than all the 
other States combined ; large cities like Lawrence and Lowell 
have been wholly built up within thirty-five years by this indus- 
try.^ 

The woollen manufactories, numbering 2,890, consume annu- 
ally, 250,000,000 lbs. of wool, and produce goods to the value of 
$180,000,000. 

The value of silk goods manufactured in 1880 was $29,983,- 
630. 

There are 2,900 brewei-ies in the country, producing annu- 
ally 400,000,000 gallons of beer, and 3,000 distilleries producing 
82,000,000 gallons of spirits. Adding the wine produced we show 
an enormous production of alcohol. 

The manufacture of boots and shoes has grown from $30,000- 
000 in 1840, to $300,000,000 in 1875. Massachusetts alone 
makes 120,000,000 pairs of boots and shoes yearly. 

The production of lumber in 1840, gave employment to 36,000 
men, who manufactured timber worth $11,000,000. In 1879 the 
value of the lumber produced was $380,000,000. The average of 
timber felled daily is 24,000 acres. 

Li 1810 the production of coal was 2,000,000 tons, employing 
7,000 miners. In 1879 55,000,000 tons were taken from the 
mines. The United States coal fields are seventy times as large 
as the coal fields of Great Britain. 

In 1830 there were 29,000 operatives engaged in the iron 
trade, and the production did not exceed 184,000 tons, but in 
1879 it was in excess of 3,070,000 tons. In 1873 it was over 
6,500,000 tons. 

The production of petroleum, which was discovered in 1859, 
now amounts to 8,000,000 gallons, with 400,000 gallons wasted 
daily for lack of storage. The value of the production is $40,- 
000,000 a year. 

In 1820 there were no canals, now there are over 4,000 miles. 

In 1825 thei'e were no railroads, now there are in use 86,497 
miles, of which 4,721 miles were built in 1879. 

In 1843 there were no telegraphs ; in 1880 there were 200,000 
miles in operation. 

In 1875 there were no telephone lines ; in 1881 there are nearly 
80,000 miles of wire in use for that purpose. 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 595 

In 1850 there were 2,526 newspapers and periodicals published 
in the United States, In 1881, 10,500 were published. 

In 1881 only fifteen per cent, of the population, or about eighty- 
five per cent, of the school children, attended school, now the aver- 
age attendance is nineteen per cent, of the population, being over 
ninety-five per cent, of the school children. The expense of the 
school system is over fi80,000,000 per year. 

In 1831 there were but fourteen colleges in the United States. 
In 1880 there were 364. 

There are in the nation 2,851,000 white people and 2,789,689 
colored persons who cannot read or write, of whom 777,873 are 
foreign born. 

In 1850 the number of insane persons was 31,397, in 1860, 
42,864, in 1870, 61,909, and in 1880 a little in excess of 70,000, 
averaging one to every Q(jQ inhabitants. 

The cost of the last civil war to the National Government, not 
including destruction of property South or loss of revenue uncol- 
lected, has already amounted in direct payments to $6,189,929,- 
909. 

The total National debt in 1880 was 12,120,415,370.63. 

In 1800 there were but 903 post offices. In 1880 there were 
42,989. 

In 1846 the production of gold and silver in the United States 
scarcely reached $1,300,000. In 1880 it was $73,700,000. 

INFLUENCE UPON OTHER NATIONS. 

Nations, like individuals, cannot live for themselves alone, nei- 
ther can they increase in wealth, education, and power without 
exerting consciously or unconsciously an increased influence upon 
the institutions of other nations. In this respect the history of 
the United States has been most remarkable. Sometimes the in- 
fluence of America in the affairs of the world has been silent and 
obscure, and at other times open and forcible, but nevertheless 
ceaseless and potent at all times since its entry into the great 
family of nations. 

The effect of its example and success as a Republic has not al- 
ways been in favor of peace ; and it may be that the agitation of 
the subject of liberty of conscience and freedom of action among 
the people of the old world, caused by the prosperity attending 
self-government in America, had much to do with the bloody 
scenes and startling revolutions of 1789 and 1797. 



696 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

A glance at the present status of the nations of the earth as we 
turn the globe eastward under our eyes, will surprise even an 
American, if he should pause as each country comes up before 
him and recall those events in their history wherein the United 
States has had an important share. In the Pacific, midway be- 
tween America and Asia, is the kingdom of Hawaii, or the 
Sandwich Islands. In 1820, when the first American missionary 
stepped on its volcanic shore, the nation was an absolute monar- 
chy of the most rude and barbarous pattern, with a blood-thirsty 
king and an untamed savage population not wholly free from can- 
nibalism. The beautiful valleys, plains, and mountain slopes 
were untilled and wild, the villages dirty and irregular, the peo- 
ple naked, and the moral sense in regard to chastity, liberty, and 
murder almost wholly in abeyance. There was a native acute- 
ness and natural intellectual talent, and an adaptability in their 
natures, of which the Americans could avail themselves in en- 
lightening and civilizing the people. Carefully and perseveringly 
cultivating those traits which tended toward moral and intellect- 
ual development, and as cautiously eradicating those customs and 
inclinations which led toward the savage state, the American mis- 
sionaries steadily and speedily led the people into the light of 
national, intellectual, an(,l moral freedom. These reformers had 
all those vices to contend agaiust, which the dissolute sailors per- 
sistently introduced, as they swarmed on shore from the sailing 
ships of every civilized nation. 

Yet how wonderful the record as we compare the present with 
the past ! Before Judge Lee went there from America the 
islands were without form of law other than tlie will of a savao^e 
ruler. Now a perfection of legal proceedings has become na- 
tional, which is so much admired by the Spanish, Portuguese, 
and English residents of other Pacific Islands that the same ex- 
periment is being tried by many of them. In 1820 the islands 
were a savage wilderness, in which naked men roamed with the 
wild beasts. To-day beautiful gardens of flowers, hedged fields 
of grain, and immense sugar and cotton plantations, adorn the 
charming landscapes. Then none but the most primitive tools 
or spears were known to the natives ; now all the useful imple- 
ments for agricultural or household uses, all the ornaments of 
civilized art, and all the effects of landscape gardening are found 
as in America. Then there were no manufactories ; now there 
are many. Tiien they imported nothing ; now they take mer- 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 597 

cliandise from the United States exceeding in value yearly the 
sum of $1,100,000. Then the people raised nothing for ex- 
port ; now the products of their fields and manufactories which 
they export annually to other countries has a value exceeding 
$2,200,000. Then they had no written language ; now they have 
a native literature, and publish books and many newspapers. 
Then they had no schools ; now the common free school system 
is universal, and all the people, with scarcely an exception, can 
read and write. Then they had no national existence among the 
powers of the world ; now they have their accredited ministers 
at nearly' every national capital. Then they had no churches ; 
now the religious denominations number an active membership 
of over 12,000. 

The political institutions of the Hawaiian kingdom are modelled 
after the Constitution of the United States, and the local adminis- 
tration of the law is conducted by the same kind of officials and 
in the same form as in the United States. So much like the 
United States are all the institutions of the country, and so 
closely related to our nation do the population feel that there 
have been many popular movements in the islands in favor of 
reciprocity and free commerce between the two nations, and 
even for a political union as another State. 

The history of the Sandwich Islands seems but a prophecy of 
what Japan is to be, so far as its political and educational imita- 
tion of the United States is concerned. One of the secretaries 
to the Mikado told the writer in Tokio (Jeddo) in 1870 that 
thousands of young men were hesitating whether to remain in 
Japan or to start at once to the United States to secure an edu- 
cation, as the only question then appeared to be only hoiv soon 
they would have the schools and institutions of America in Ja- 
pan. The progress which the people of Japan have made since 
1870 must have astonished even the most expectant men of that 
empire, and shows what a powerful influence the United States 
has had in their social and political revolutions. In 1854 Com- 
modore Periy, of the American navy, was sent to secure some 
treaty with the sealed kingdom of Japan, whereby commerce 
with the people might be opened. It was a difficult and an ap- 
parently hopeless undertaking at the time ; for the natives hated 
all foreigners with religious hatred, and every European who set 
foot on their shore incurred the penalty of death. The people 
were not in such a savage state as those of the Sandwich Islands, 



598 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

but their form of government was an absolute monarchy, their 
religion a low form of idol-worship, and their social relations bar- 
barous and often murderously cruel. They had some knowledge 
of the culture of rice and tea, and among a favored class writing 
in Chinese characters was used for correspondence. They were, 
however, a brave, active, patriotic race, and when once relieved 
of the sujDerstitions of their religion and the despotism of their 
government, they become noble, enterprising, honorable free- 
men. 

Commodore Perry met with such success in his interview with 
the Japanese government that he secured the opening of two 
ports to the ships of the United States, and the contract was 
ratified by a solemn treaty. The announcement of that treaty 
induced many merchants of America to open a trade with Japan, 
and also drew the attention of the English government to the 
importance of the Japanese trade. Other nations imitated Eng- 
land in sending fleets and making treaties, so that in a few years 
an immense trade sprang up between Japan and the civilized 
world. Soon American missionaries found their way into the 
ports, and opened schools for children, and translated the Bible 
into the Japanese language. Then followed the mania among 
Japanese youth for secreting themselves on foreign vessels and 
visiting the United States and Europe. Then other ports were 
opened. Then the young sons of Japanese noblemen were sent 
to America and Europe to be educated. Then American school- 
teachers, professors, scientific men, and skilled workmen were 
invited to take important stations in the kingdom as teachers of 
the arts and sciences and directors and superintendents of the 
government's public enterprises; until they now hold influential 
situations in the Japanese custom houses, national banks, navy, 
army, government offices at the capitol, post office, public educa- 
tion, and department of agriculture, and are engaged to organ- 
ize a common-school system after the pattern of the United 
States, and to connect the large cities of the nation with each 
other by telegraphs and railroads. Christian churches are being 
formed and supported by the people in many portions of the em- 
pire, and the theory of entire political freedom and universal 
suffrage as adopted in the United States has the support of the 
goveinment officials. 

Thus, in 1854, Japan was a hidden, unknown land to tlie en- 
lightened world, and was in a sad state of barbarism. In 1881 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 599 

it is one of the recognized national powers in the world. With 
the coinage and national bank system on the American plan 
which it has adopted, commerce has been greatly simplified and 
encouraged, until the exports for a single year are in excess of 
twenty-five millions of dollars, and the imports exceed twenty- 
eight millions of dollars. 

Upon the gigantic empire of China the institutions of the 
United States are having a strong influence through the agency 
of the American missionaries, American commerce, Chinese stu- 
dents educated by the thousand in the United States, and through 
the vast throng of emigrants who ebb and flow in nomadic waves 
between the Pacific coast and China. Many Americans are em- 
ployed, in common with Englishmen, in the internal revenue, 
customs service, treasury department, and diplomatic service of 
the Chinese nation. Americans have been engaged in the or- 
ganization of the armies, and have led great armies in time of 
internal warfare. It is easy to foretell what will some day be 
the result of American education and experience among Ameri- 
can institutions upon the thousands of Chinamen who now visit 
this country. Not many years hence the people of that land 
will become civilized and Christian under the influence of the 
civilized nations which now carry on commerce and otherwise 
exert an elevating influence upon them. 

One of the marvels of this rushing age is found in the prog- 
ress, within a few years, of the American Missions in the work 
of Christianizing the kingdoms of Farther India. The advance 
in arts, sciences, agricultuie, and religion in the kingdom of 
Siam, within ten years, has astonished the people who inaugu- 
rated the movement to send missionaries there. The success at- 
tending the teaching and preaching in Pegu and Burmah has 
surprised the missionaries themselves, and the aptness and will- 
ingness of the people in connection with civilized enterprises has 
been of late most strikingly displayed. In many places in those 
heathen countiies American school-books, American tools, Amer- 
ican machinery, and American teachers, are revolutionizing the 
whole condition of the people. Their influence is felt in the 
courts of the rulers, and the way clearly opened for further and 
greater reforms. The civilizing influences of missionary efforts 
and commerce seem to go hand in hand. Sometimes the mis- 
sionaries open a country to commerce, and often commerce opens 
heathen lands to the missions. But in both commerce and mis- 
sions the elevating and purifying influence of America is being 



600 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

felt more and more, year by year, in that hitherto benighted land 
of India. 

Even ill Mohammedan lands the American nation is becoming 
knoAvn and respected by the colleges and schools, churches and 
theological seminaries, which Americans are establishing. All 
along the coast of Palestine and Asia Minor, even into Constan- 
tinople, churches and schools proclaim the Americans' desire for 
the salvation of all men. In Egypt the positions of responsibility 
which have been hitherto held by Englishmen or Frenchmen are 
being partly filled with Americans, and the counsels of the oldest 
empire of the world are being influenced, and its internal policy 
more or less guided, by men from one of the youngest nations of 
the world. 

The share which America has had in the formation or revival 
of the ancient Grecian nation will be considered by man}' as 
scarcely perceptible. But the outspoken friendship of distin- 
guished Americans for Greece in her day of revolutionary trial, 
the contributions of money, the active part of Ameiican philan- 
thropists, united with the adoption of so many political forms 
by Greece which were used only in the United States, the pres- 
ence of enlightened American professors at Athens, and of Gre- 
cian professors in American colleges, cannot be lost upon the 
government or its people. 

Italy is again a united, free, and intelligent nation, and no 
other country in the world has, perhaps, more reason to take 
pride in her progress in everything valuable to man, than the 
United States. There were three men whose influence upon the 
character of the Italian nation was most marked, and who con- 
tiibuted more than kings or queens to the establishment of a 
imited and free nation. Those men were Mazzini, Garibaldi, 
and Manin. The former was an overzealous and impracticable 
man in many respects, but it would make a marvellous change in 
the history of Italy could we rearrange events and leave him out. 
He was a Republican and an earnest student of Amei'ican lib- 
erty. He often used the United States as an example in his 
speeches and writings in favor of a Republic in Italy. He sought 
the acquaintance of Americans ; and in his speeches to the Swiss 
urged the adoption of the American system of elections. He 
was also one of the founders of the " Americani," or society of 
Americans for the liberation of Italy from Austrian rule, and 
went with the society when it was merged into the " Carbonari." 

Garibaldi was, from his earliest youth, an ardent admirer of 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 601 

the American Republic, and was one of the few Italians who was 
well acquainted with, the system of government and free institu- 
tions of our country. In 1850, after his severe struggle in the 
great Revohition of Italy in 1847-8, he came to New York and 
became a citizen of the United States. Here he read our books 
and studied our political proceedings, and copied largely from our 
laws and constitution in his recommendations concerning the 
Italian Republic which he hoped to see established. Many of 
the riglfts and immunities granted to the people at the union of 
Italy have been the outgrowth of his agitation. 

Daniel Manin, the Venetian revolutionist, whose name is per- 
haps the least known of the trio, nevertheless had the greatest 
influence upon the policy of Victor Emmanuel and the Italian 
people in the constitution of the kingdom of Italy, and he was 
also the most hearty friend and admirer of the United States. 
His early life was much influenced by American books, as he 
often declared. He was one of the founders of the " Americani." 
He favored eloquently and persistentl}^ a "United States of Italy." 
He sent out as an incendiary document the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, translated verbatim into Italian. He adopted " George 
Washington " and " Thomas Jefferson " as passwords for his 
guard, showing his regard for those Americans. 

From his exile in Paris, after his almost miraculous heroism 
and endurance at Venice in the siege of 1848, he continually 
uiged the Italians to take the United States as an example and 
make a free nation. Thus he, more than any other Italian of 
his time, prepared the people of Italy for the institutions which 
they now enjoy under tliat most limited form of a limited, mon- 
archy. He advocated American religious freedom, which was 
partially adopted. He advocated the adoption of the American 
school system, which was also partially done. He advocated the 
establishment of a Judiciary and a Congress after the plan 
adopted in America, and loved and honored, and almost wor- 
shipped, as he was by many Italians, his words had great influ- 
ence, and brought about many reforms. 

His influence did not die with him in 1857. The potency of 
his name was seen in 1866, and again in 1870, and should the 
present king fail to make such a " President '* as Manin declared 
a king should be if they tolerated one at all, he may reasonably 
expect to hear the call for his abdication fearlessly spoken as 
when against the Emperor Ferdinand the people so unanimously 
shouted "Avremo Manin" (we will have Manin). 
76 



602 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

Tlie imjjortance which the French people have attached to the 
example of America has been so often mentioned by French 
periodicals and French orators, that at times the people have 
wearied of the cry. The statesman, Gambetta, in a speech made 
just after the last siege of Paris, exithiimed, "I am accused of 
quoting 'the United States!' Citizens of France, it is safe to 
quote the United States ! " From the days of Lafayette to the 
present day the success of the American nation has continued 
to be a favorite theme with the French in their opposition to 
tyranny, and the establishment of a republic on the ruins of a 
monarchy as old as civilization there, could not have been suc- 
cessful had not a mighty nation already tried the experiment 
successfully and that nation one which was closely united with 
France in fraternal affection. In the national constitution and 
laws there are now embodied republican provisions which are 
taken direct from the State and National Constitutions of the 
United States. Indebted as we are to France for our national ex- 
istence we rejoice at these opportunities for making some return. 

England and the United States are now in s^ich direct com- 
mercial competition that the whole internal policy of the British 
nation is affected by the industry and enterprise of the American 
people. With American cotton fabrics securing the mai'kets of 
the world, with the enormous product of grain, coal, iron, and 
beef in America, going into her own ports and underbidding the 
bare cost of production there, the English people are forced to 
make changes which disturb the tranquillity of the whole empire. 
Emigration increasing, discontent among the manufacturing pop- 
ulation developing into popular political movements, and distress 
among the farmers causing feuds between landlord and tenant, it 
may be safely said that the United States is an important factor 
in shaping the future of England. In addition to these commer- 
cial considerations, although somewhat connected with them, the 
relations which so many of the American people hold to the gov- 
ernment of Ireland through ancestry, birth, or sympathy, do in- 
fluence more or less the policy and history of both nations. The 
great literary interests which both have in a common language, 
and the relation to each other being such, that the results of 
great discoveries or great achievements in literature or science 
must at once become equally beneficial to both, also shows how 
great and important our influence over each other's destiny has 
become. 

On the extreme west coast of Africa next south of Senagambia 



ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 603 

is a territory over which a republic is gradually but firmly ex- 
tending its government, and in which will doubtless be seen the 
head and front of a powerful nation. It is called Liberia. It 
was founded in 1822 by the American Colonization Society. Its 
constitution is a copy of that of the United States as far as it could 
apply to the time and place. Its othcers have nearly all been 
citizens of the United States, and its administration of law and 
election of officers are conducted in accordance with American 
custom. It is a foothold upon that vast dark continent similar to 
that of the English at Cape Colony, and its future appears equally 
liopeful to its founders. 

Over the affairs of the South American nations the United 
States has exercised but little control although again and again 
appealed to by some of them to do so. Yet capitalists of the 
United States have large sums invested in South American rail- 
roads and kindred enterprises, and many citizens of our republic 
are in the employ of those nations in connection with govern- 
mental business. 

Upon the principalities of the West India Islands the United 
States has not used its political influence as much as it clearly 
ought to have done ; and it is clearly the duty of this nation to 
interfere enough in the government of adjacent countries or 
islands to secure peace both for them and for itself. For a pow- 
erful and wealthy nation to stand carelessly and listlessly by 
while' murder, or human slavery, or useless destruction of prop- 
erty is going on at the next door, is to act the part of a partici- 
pant in the crimes which it might prevent. Whether the "Mon- 
roe Doctrine " is to be upheld or not, it may not so much matter, 
but whether we are to allow our prestige and power to be wasted, 
while the oppressed of our continent and its islands cry in vain 
for succor, is a great matter. The United States would exert a 
powerful influence on the affairs of the West Indies, if the natiou 
were less selfish. A word of advice would have saved and pro- 
moted the civilization of Hayti and San Domingo. A single 
stroke of diplomatic action would save Cuba from her ceaseless 
wars and terrible slavery. The United States possesses the nec- 
essary influence, but it has not been used. 

Upon Mexico, however, the institutions of the United States 
have made a great and valuable impression. No country in the 
world, unless it be in Africa, presented a less favorable field for 
a republic than did Mexico when it declared its independence of 
Spain in 1821. Ignorant, hasty, and quarrelsome, the Mexican 



604 ONE HUNDRED YEARS' PROGRESS. 

populace had but little fitness for st^If-governnient. This was inost 
clearly demonstrated by the ceaseless rebellion and revolution 
which followed the adoption of a constitution copied almost lit- 
erally from that of the Unfted States. But yet with the moral 
influence of the American republic constantly exerted to encour- 
aged, enlighten, and caution the Mexican people, they have 
slowly ascended the scale of self-discipline until the introduc- 
tion of railroads and telegraphs by the capitalists of the United 
States appears to be the crowning feature of republican success. 
Through all these years of internal warfare, election brawls, re- 
volts, deposition of officials, defalcations, betrayals, and discon- 
tent, our Great Republic has seized upon the opportunities to 
calm the fears of officials, to frown down dangerous revolutions 
among the Mexican people, and by careful diplomacy, to keep 
the nation republican in its form and tending upward in all its in- 
stitutions. Once, when in the trying days of our civil war France 
attempted to get a hold upon Mexico through Maximilian and 
his companion dupes, the Mexicans looked despairingly toward 
the United States, and asked a sicjual of recognition. The reit- 
eration of the " Monroe Doctrine," that no foreign power should 
be sufl^ered to interfere in the affairs of the New World, by several 
leading statesmen, was enough to encourage the Mexicans to the 
greatest resistance, and enough to show the invading nations how 
useless would be their attempts to gain a permanent footing in 
America. In the last Mexican civil war in which Juarez was 
concerned the prompt recognition of him as the rightful president 
by the United States destroyed all hope of successful rebellion 
on the part of the insurgents, and peace followed almost imme- 
diately. The form of government, the finances, the coin, the 
banks, the post-offices, the railways, the custom houses, the elec- 
tions, the militia, the representative assemblies of Mexico, like 
those of Canada, make a closer and closer imitation of the Great 
Republic's usages and customs, in every passing year. 

Such prestige and position among the nations of the world may 
be a subject of pride or a subject of humiliation according to the 
manner in which we use it. It is now time that every citizen of 
the republic should feel that the nation does not live for itself 
alone, but that the maintenance of all "its free and enlightenino- 
institutions not only insures peace, prosperity, and happiness 
at home, but also by the powerful force of example hastens the 
approach of that period when all mankind shall be also blessed 
with the inestimable boon of civil and religious freedom. 



INDEX. 



Adams, JoHX. Kls birth, &7. Hi^ noble am- 
bition, 59. M.<s iruo litroum, 6;>. His in- 
cessant labors, 67. Goesto Kurope, 73. His 
integrity, 78. Second visit to Europe, 71). 
His wonderful exertions, 83. His lirst inter- 
view with George HI., 85. Elected Vice- 
President, 88. Inaugurated President, 92. 
Opposes the British right of search, 93. 
His death and character, 96. His opinion 
of Thomas Jefferson, 104. 

A.DAJIS, Mus. John, expresses a truly noble 
sentiment, 81. Joins her husband'in Eu- 
rope, 84. Her appearance when seventy 
years old, 94. 

Adajis, John Quincy. His birth and child- 
hood, 185. Graduates at Harvard (.'ollege, 
and studies law, J87. Chosen to United- 
States Senate, 189. Alienated from liis par- 
ty, 191. Minister to Russia, 192. Minister 
to England, 194. Elected President, 195. 
Sent to Congress, 198. His eloquence, 199. 
His scathing reply to T. F. Marshall, 204. 
His death, 206. 

Administration of John Quincy Adams, 195. 

AuGKiissiONs of England, 135. 

Alexander of Russia receives John Quincy 
Adams with marked favor, 192. Ofters to 
mediate in our war with England, 193. 

American Commission in Pauis, 80. 

Anecdotes. Of Washinfi:ton, 12, 40, 53, 54. 
John Adams, 57. Franklin and Adams, 69. 
Jeffersonand his bride, 102. Lafayette, 117. 
Mrs. James Madison, 150. President Madi- 
son, 167. President Monroe, 182. Russian 
officers, 192. Warren U. Davis, 198. Andrew 
Jackson, 214, 215, 217, 225. Mrs. James K. 
Polk and Henry Clav, 288. Gen. Kearney 
and an Indian chief, 308. Gen. Z. Taylor, 
312. Gen. Pierce, 340. Abraham Lincoln, 
378, 381, 385, 390, 420-428. Gov. Andrew 
Johnson, 448. 

Appeal from loyal men from all States of the 
Union, 471, 

Battle. Of New Orleans, 230. Okeechobee, 
303. Monterey, 316. Molino del Rey, 347. 

Blaiu, Secretary, opposes the issue of the 
Emancipation Proclamation, 415. 

BoDFisii, Capt., the skilful lumberman, .341. 

Booth, John Wilkes, assassinates President 
Lincoln, 431. 

Brandyvvine, Americans defeated at, 41. 

British Government, how they regarded 
the American struggle, 34. 

British loss at New Orleans, 235. 

Buchanan, James. His homo and ancestry, 
352. Faithfulness as a member of Con- 
gress, 354. Speech upon the taritf, 355. 
Sustains President Polk, 356. Elected Pres- 
ident, 358. Reply to the Silliman Letter, 
3G1. Retires to Wheatland, 374. 

BUENA Vista, battle of, 319. 

Burr, Aaron. His opinion of Andrew Jack- 
son, 223. 

Cass, Gen. Lewis, nominated for the presi- 
deacy, 386. 



Ceremony observed by Gen. Washington, 30, 

Colonial Congress. Its first sitting, 63. 
Lord Chatham's opinion of its ability and 
heroism, 64. 

Commissioners sent to France, 107. 

Committees ok Cokuespondence, their ori- 
gin, 102. 

Comparison between the American presi- 
dents and the kings of Europe, 151. 

Condition ok the Army. At the commence- 
ment of the Revolutionary War, 30. After 
the evacuation of New York, 36. Of the 
rebel States during and after the civil war 
409. 

Conspirators. Their designs, 432. 

Constitution ok the United States, and 
its fruits, 51. Call from James Madison to 
frame it, 152. Opinions of distinguished 
men concerning it, 153. Presented to the 
people, 155. 

Conversation of Jackson and Scott, 373. 

CORNWALLIS, encircled, surrenders, 47. 

Debate. On the admission of Missouri into 
the Union, 182. Between Mr. Lincoln and 
Mr. Douglas, .388. 

Declarathjn ok Indepkndence, drawn up 
by Thomas Jefferson, 105; in Mecklenburg 
Penn., 265. 

Depredations of British soldiers upon Jef- 
ferson's estate, 107. 

Description of the " White House," 131. 

Destitution of the American army, 45. 

De Tocqueville's views of State sovereign- 
ty, 356. 

Difference between the Federal and Repub- 
lican parties, 173. 

DiFFERKNCES between John Adams and the 
French Government, 79. 

Difficulties arising fi oni a confederation, 40. 

Discomfiture of the assailants of John Quin- 
cy Adams, 200. 

Division in President Jackson's cabinet, 248. 

Dorchester H eights taken possession of, 31. 

Douglas, Stephen A. His qualities, 3S8. 

Effect of a protective tariff upon the South 
and North, 280. 

Elm Tree in Cambridge lmn.ortalized,31. 

Ejiancipation Proclamation issued, 414. 

ENCROACiniENTS of England and France, 18. 

Engagement between " The Chesapeake " 
and " The Leopard," 190. 

England claims the right of search, 1.36. Her 
treatment of America in her early exist- 
ence as a nation, 178. 

Evidence of a nation's grief for the death of 
Lincoln, 433. 

Extracts. From " The British Quarterly," 164. 
From President J ell'erson's inaugural, 132. 

False Views of the French Revolution, 114. 

Fillmobe, Millard. Hi^ paren'age, 324. 
His early life, 325. Elected to the House 
of Assembly, New York, and then to Na- 
tional Congress, 327. Vice-President Uuif-'d 
States, 329. Uis course as President, 330. 

605 



606 



INDEX. 



Flag of the nation, 577. 
Florida purchased of Spain, 18 ). 
Fort Brown attacked by Mexicans, 309. 
France semis liclp to the colonies, 4.5- 
Franklin, Dr. Kenjamin. llis facetiousness. 52. 
llis popularity at the French court, 75. 

Garfield, James Abram. Ance',try and birth, 
642. Backwoods life, 542. The family, hVl. 
Death of his father, 544. His work, 544. 
Youth, 545. Employment on canal, 545. 
School (lavs, 546. Ilis college course, 547, 
548. President of Hiram CoUes;e, 548. Studies 
law, 548. His political principles, 548. Elec- 
tion to State Senate, 548. Opening of war, 
548. Colonel of Forty-second Ohio, 648. First 
campaign, 549-554. Sandy Valley expedition, 
550. Victory over rjen. Marshall, 551. Com- 
missioned as brigadier-general, 553. Danger- 
ous adventure, 553 Drives the rebels from 
Pound Gap, 554. Battle of Shiloh and siege 
of Corinth, 555. Fugitive slaves, 555. Elected 
Keprcsentative to the Thirty-eighth Congress, 
657,561. Chattanooga campaign, 55S. Battle 
of Chickamauga, 560. Elected to the United 
States Senate, 562. Life in Congress, 562. 
Speeches, 564-570. Nomination and election 
as President of the United State-;, 570. 

Grant, Ulysses S. His birth and early education, 
4Sl. Enters the Military Academy at West 
I'oint, 4^2. His service in the Mexican War, 

482. Sent to a military post on the frontier, 

483. Resigns his commission, marries, and 
engages in farming at St. Louis, 483. Enters 
into the leather business at Galena, 111., 483. 
Offers his services to Government upon the 
breaking out of the war, and is commissioned 
as colonel of an Illinois regiment, 483. Pro- 
moted to the r.mk of brigadier-general, and 
attacks the enemy at Belmont, 484. Captures 
Forts Henry and Donelson, and is commis- 
sioned as major-general, 485, 486. Fights the 
battles of Shiloh and Pittsburg Landing, 
487, 488. Besieges Vicksburg, 489. Receives 
the surrender of the rebel army under Pem- 
berton,490. Thrown from his horse at New 
Orleans, and disabled for several months, 491. 
Gains a great victory at Chtttanooga, 493. 
His conduct in battle described by Col. Par- 
ker, 494. Is commi.isioued lieutenant-gen- 
eral, 495. His reply to- ladies in regard to a 
ball, 496. His plin< for the new campaign, 
497. Marches against Gen. Lee, 498. After 
sever.il desperate battles, drives Lee within 
his intrenchments at Petersburg and Rich- 
mond, 498, 507. t'aptures Richmond, 511. 
Forces Lee to surrender, 512. Nominated as 
candidate of the Repuhlican party for the 

. presidency, 514. Klccted President of the 
United States, and enters upon the duties of 
his office, 515. 

Harrison, Benjamin, incidents in his life, 254. 

Harrison, William Henry. His early home, 254. 
His youthful character, 2.55. .\ppointed Gov- 
ernor by .John Adam^i, 257. His extreme 
probity, 259. Visits the Indian camp on Tip- 
pecanoe River, 2:52. Appointed commander- 
in-chief of North-western army, 235. His 
mirihfulnes, 266 Member of House of R -p- 
resentatives, 268. llis tribute to Gen. .lack- 
son, 269. Sent minister to Colombia, S. A., 

270. His temperance and anti-slavery views, 

271. Elected President, 272. His sudden 
death, 273. 

Hayes, Rutherford B. llis birth and ancestry, 
517. Removal of his family to Ohio, 519. 
Delicate in health, and gentle in disposition? 
520. Early school-life, 521. Enters Kenyon 
College, 621. Begins the study of law in 
Coluuibu4, 522. Rumjvos to Cincinnati, and 



marries Miss Lucy Ware Webb, 523. Elected 
city solicitor, 523. Enlists for the war, 524. 
On the staff of Gen. Ro.-<encranz, 524. Lieu- 
tenant-colonel of the I'wenty-thiri Ohio, 525. 
In the battle at South Mountain. 526. 
Wounded, 528. Colonel of tlie Twenty-third 
Ohio, 528. On an expedition to South-west- 
ern Virginia, 529. On the Kanawha River, 
63J. Takes part in the attack on Lynchburg, 
632. In the .Shenandoah Valley, bii. The 
battle of Winche.<ter, 5.33. Fisher's Hill, .5;i4. 
His courage and coolness at Cedir Creek, 534. 
His political principles, 5.35. Elected to Con- 
gress, 537. Re-elected, 538. Elected gov- 
ernor of Ohio, 5'39. Re-elected, 539. De- 
feated as a candidate for Congress, and retires 
from political life, 5.39. Inherits the estates 
of Sardis Birchard, 539. Republican candi- 
date for president, 540. Declared elected, 
and inaugurated, 541. Administration, 511. 
Retirement, 541. 
Holland negotiates treaties with America, 80.* 

Imbecility of President Buchanan, 371. 

Impeacu.ment of Andrew Johnson, 480. 

Incidents. In the life of John Adams, 61, 62. 
Regarding Gen. Jackson and John Quiucy 
Adams, 197. In the later years of John 
Quiucy Adams, 206. Of the last hours of 
Pre.-^ident Polk, 297. In tho life of President 
Lincoln, 418. 

Indebtedness of the American Republic to John 
Quiucy -4.dams, 198. 

Inexplicable complications of party, 277. 

Infamous conduct of the British Government, 
162. 

Influence of the news of the treaty of Ghent, 
165. Of the United States upon other coun- 
tries, 595. 

Inhabita.ms, President Buchanan's definition of 
the word, 364. 

Insurrection in Canada, 257. 

INIEUVIBW between (}rant and Pemberton, 490. 

Jackson, Andrew. His ancestry and early char- 
acter, 2i'8. Commences teaching, 212. Prac- 
tices law, 21). Ilis marriage, 216. Elected 
to House of Represeniatives, 218. Sent to 
United States Senate, 219. Exhibitions of 
passion, 2"20. His treatment of his family, 
223. Raises an army to meet the .Inilians 
225. His cruelty to a soldier, 227. Appointed 
major-general United States army, 228. His 
appear.mce and manners, 2-30. His defence 
of New Orleans, 2.33. Unauthorized severity, 
235. Elected President, 236. His last years, 

237. Sickness, and farewells to his family, 

238. Burial scene, 239. Testimony of Chief 
Justice Taney, 240. 

Jefferson, Thomas. His ancestry and birtli, 98. 
His diligence and acquirements, 99 His po- 
sition in Congress, 1U4. Chosen Governor of 
Virginia, 106. " Notes on Virginia,'- 108. 
His love for his wife, and agony at her death, 
110. Sent ambassador to France, 112. His 
domestic character, 116. llis views of our 
obligation to France, 119. Appointed Secre- 
tary of State, 121 Differences with John 
Adams, 124. Elected President, 131. His 
simplicity and politeness, 133. Is re-elected 
President, 135. His attractive hospitality, 
139. Pecuniary emb irrassments, 142. His 
last hours, and death, 144. His opinion of 
James Monroe, 171. Of Andrew Jackson for 
Presiient, 219. 

J eff.-;rson, Mrs. Thomas. Her beautiful charac- 
ter, and death, 109. 

Johnson, Andrew. His parentage, .and struggles 
for education, 437. His rapid rise in intelli- 
gence and influence, 438. His keen reply to 
Senator Hammond, 43J. Oppo-ses sece.ssion, 



INDEX. 



607 



440. His trials in Kentucky, 445 Appointed 
Military Governor, 446. ills efforts in tlie 
Union cause, 447. Proclamation, 449. Nom- 
inated Vice-President, 451. Addi-es.^; at Wash- 
ington, 459. His reply to Gov. Oglesby, 4(32. 
Change ol sentiments, 465. His present vievv.s 
regarding vital questions, 466. His ideas on 
reconstruction, 47U. ]mi3eacliment and ac- 
quittal, 48U. 

Kaxs.is. Its political troubles, 349. Resolutions 
of her free-State men, tioO. Struggles for its 
possession, 359. 

Kansas-Nebrask.^ Bill. Its principles, 388. 

liECOMPTON CoNSTiTOTiON framed, 390. 

Lee, Gen. His surrender to Gen. Gi'ant, 512. 

Lettjr. Of John Adams to his wife, 68. Mrs. 
Adams. 65, 66, 6S. Of John Quinr.y Adams 
on the impressment of seamen, 191. Of Pres- 
ident Biiclinnan, 370. Of Mr. Cobb respecting 
John Quiiicy Adams, 196. Of Mr. Coo/ier to 
President Johnson, 466. Of Gen. Harrison 
to Gen. Bolivar, 270. Ot Gen.. Jackson, 247. 
Of Jefferson to his daughter, 111; to his 
grandson, 112; to Gen. Lafayette, 125; to 
James Madison, 127 ; after the death of his 
daughter, 135 ; to Gen. Lafayette, 136 ; to his 
grandson, 137 ; to John Adams, 141. Of An- 
drew Johnson to Rev. A. J. Crawford, 453. 
Of Presidfnt Polk to Gen. Taylor, 314. Of 
Daniel iVfhster, 248. Of Washington to Jef- 
ferson, 126; to Mr. Laurens, 42. 

Lincoln, Abraham. Great poverty of his ances- 
tors, 376. Character of his parents, 377. 
Scene at his mother's funeral, 378. His jiure 
morals, 3S0. His varied employments, 381. 
Elected to State Legislature, and studies law, 
382. His avowed opinion of slavery, 383. 
Elected to Congress, 385. His view of the 
Mexican War, 386. His reply to S. A. Doug- 
las, 388. Various opinions of his speeches, 
393. Thoroughness of his law studies, 394. 
Scene at his nomination for President, 397. 
Speeches on his way to Washington, 401. 
Extracts from his inaugural, 406. His ac- 
count of the draughting of the Emancipation 
Proclamation, 414. His tenderness and jus- 
tice illustrated, 417. Reasons for occasional 
drollery, 421. His second election, 428. Ex- 
tracts from his inaugural, 429. His calm 
courage, 430. Is assassinated, 431. Funeral 
solemnities, 434. His views of slavery, 435. 

Lookout Mountain, storming of, by Gen. Hooker, 
492. 

Madison, James. Ills birth and childhood, 149. 
Elected to the Continental Congress, 150 ; to 
Virginia Legislature, 151. Jeffer.son pays 
him a beautiful tribute, 153. .Marries, 156. 
Appointed Secretary of State, 159. Ability 
of liis State-pipers, 160. Elected President, 
161. Re-elected, 163. Retires from public 
life to Montpelier, 166. His death, 167. 

Madison, Mrs. Jamks. Her beautiful character, 
156. Her influence in Washington, 169. Her 
death, 168. 

Marcv, Gov., upon party removals, 249. 

M\RsHALL"s eulogy upon President Taylor, 322. 

Massacre by savage tribes, 44 ; in New Orleans, 
472. 

Meeting of the l-ivst Congress, 88. 

Memorial of New-Haven gentlemen to President 
Buchanan, 360. 

Mexico, hostilities inaugurated, 309. 

Missouri Compromise, 183. Repealed, 348. Ab- 
rogated, 387. 

Monroe Doctrine, its history, 183. 

Mo.NROE, James. His birth and early life, 170. 
Distinguishes himself in the army, 171. 
Chosen United States senator, 173. Minister 



to France, 174. Governor of Virginia, 176. 
Chosen Secretary of War, 179. Chosen Pres- 
ident, 180. Re-elected President, 182. Re- 
trospect of his life, 183. His death, 184. 

Motives which led France to ally her.self with the 
colonies, 79. 

Mt. Vernon, history of a day at, 53. 

Nashville Aristocracy in 1788, 214. 
Navv of the United States, 576. 
Novel mode of balloting, 382. 

One Hundred Years' Progress. Anecdote, 572 
Territory of the Republic, 572. Population, 
672. Rapid growth, 573. Public buildings, 
674. The Navy, 576. The army, 577. The 
National flag, 577. Boldness of the Declara- 
tion of Independence, 579. The steamboat, 
579. The railway, 580. Cotton, 681. Coal, 
681. The telegraph, 582. India-rubber, 682. 
Matches, 582. Ana;sth«lics, 582. Gas, 583, 
The printing-press, 683. Metallic pens, 583. 
The daguerreotype, 584. Sewing-machines, 
584. Manufactures in general, 684. The tel- 
ephone, the phonogi-aph, and the electric 
liglit,686. The Centennial Jubilee, 586 Sta- 
tistics of progress, 591. The inUucnce of the 
United States on other nations, 595. 

OsTBND .Manifesto, 357. 



Palo Alto, battle won by General Taylor at, 310 

Party Spirit in the United States, 157. 

People, new meaning of this word, 864. 

Perils ot frontier life, 27. 

Pierce Franklin. His birth and early life, 333. 
Elected to various offices, 334. His bereave- 
ments, 335. His march to join Gen. Suott, 
338. is seriously injured, 344. His perse- 
verance, 346. Returns to his profe.ssion, and 
is chosen President, 348. Retires from the 
" Wliite House," 350. His attitude during 
the civil war, 351. 

PoLK, James K. His ancestors in the Revolution, 
285. His early life and education, 286. Prac- 
tises law, and is elected to Congress, 289. 
Chosen Governor of Tennessee, 290. Inaug- 
urated President, 292. His views of the war 
with Mexico, 295. Leaves Washington, 297. 
His death, 298. 

Population of the United States at the commence- 
ment of the Revolutionary War, 29. In 1790, 
572. In 1880, 573, 591. 

Proclamation of Great Britain, 106. 

Proslavery feeling towards Abraham Lincoln, 
370. 

Railroads, 580. 

Recovstruction defined, 469. 

Removal of Congres.s to Washington, 180. 

Republican Convention of 1860, .396. 

Resolution offered by Richard Henry Lee, 67. 

Drawn up by Jefferson. I(l3. 
RETRE.A.T of the IJritish from Boston Harbor, 32. 

Santa Anna. Leads the Mexican,? at IJuena Vista, 
319. His estate, 342. 

Savage barbarity in Virginia, 27 ; reasonings and 
consequences, 17. 

Scott, Major-Gbn. Winfield. Describes Presi- 
dent Taylor, 323. Marches to tlie city of 
Mexico, 343. Urges Buchanan to send re-en- 
forcements to certain United States forts, 372. 
His remarks on the inauguration of President 
Lincoln, 105. 

Secret Embassy of Caleb Cushing, 372. 

Sentiments of Lord Chatham, 44. 

Seward, W. H., Secretary of State. Attempt to 
assassinate him, 432. 

Sherman, General. His great march from At- 
lanta to Savannah, 610, 



G08 



INDEX. 






SiniMAN Memorial, its influBiice, 391. 

Sloat, Commodore, United States Navy. His con- 
duct on the Pacific coast, 308. 

South Carolina secedes, 371. 

Speeches. Of Hon. L. M. Keitt, 373. Of A. Lin- 
coln, at Springfield, III., 391. Of Stephen A. 
Douglas, at Chicago, 411. Of Amlrew John- 
son, at Nashville, 451 ; to the colored people, 
45-5. Of Gov. Oglesby, 462. Of Gen. Garfield, 
564, 566. 

Spirit of " J he Kichmond Kxaminer,'' 400. 

''Springfield Republican," describes President 
Lincoln, 388. 

Stanton, Secrbtart. His removal from office by 
President Johnson, 478. 

Statement of Gov. Hamilton of Texas, 472. 

State-Hiohts principles advocated by President 
Van Uuren, 245. 

Statistics of Progress, 591. 

St. Clair, Gen., defeated on the \yaba3h, 255. 

Steamboats, 579. 

Stony Point fortress captured, 45. 

Sufferings of the Patriot army, 38 ; of our sol- 
diers at Monterey, 316. 

Taylor, Zachary. His birth and early home, 
299. His shrewdness aud courage, 301. En- 
gages in the Seminole War, 3ii2. Sent to 
Mexico, 306. Brevetted major-general, 311. 
Crosses the Rio Grande, 313. His report of 
the battle of Monterey, 317. Posts his force 
at Buena Vista, 318. His election to the 
presidency, and death, 322. 

Tecumseh. liis character, 260. 

Temperance principles of Abraham Lincoln, 398. 

Tenure of Office Act. Disregarded by President 
Johnson, 478. 

Terms for reconstruction adopted by Congress, 
476. 

Territory of the Republic, 572. 

'J'estimony of Jefferson to the character of Madi- 
son, 151, 153. 

Texas. How it came into the Union, 291. Its 
western boundary, 306. 

Thrilling scene in the House of Representatives, 
201. 

Treachfry of Tecumseh and his brother, 261. 

'i REATY OP Peace. Signed at Pari.s, 49 ; with In- 
dian tribes, gained by Gov. Harrison, 26S. 



Tyler, John. Ilia parentage, 274. Sent as rep- 
resentative to Congres>, 275. Opposes J. Q. . 

Adams when in tiie Senate, 276. Becomes *-^ 

President, 278. Endeavoi-s to conciliate all St: 

parties, 279. Allies himself with the South C 

in the civil war, and dies, 283. '-t_ 

Valley Forge, Wasliington's headquarters at, 41. 

Van Buben, Martin. His pirentase, 242. His C 

marriage, 243. Chosen Governor of New York, 

245. Appointed Secretary of State by Gen. 

Jackson, 248. lie is sent to the Court of St. 

James, 248. His perfct self-control, 249. 

Elected President, 25). Retires to Linden- 

wald, and dies, 252. 
Vandal Spirit of the Mexicans, 340. 

Walker, rebel Secretary of War. His prophec^y, 
411. 

Want of power in Congress, 48. 

War. Its con^equencs, 19. Declared against 
Great Britain, 163. What is civil, aud what 
international, 468. 

Washington, the family, 9-18. 

^V'ashinoton, George. His birth and home, 10. 
His early toils, 15. Chosen surveyor of the 
State, 17. Sent to remonstrate with the 
French, 19. His cool couraife, 21. Order of 
the day issued by, 24. His sagacity at Brad- 
dock's defeat, 26. His marriage and home, 
28. Chosen comniander-in chief, 29. Exhie 
bition of Christian character, 34. His trn- 
heroism, 37. Assailed by his countrymen- 
42. Takes leave of the officers of the army, 
49. Closing words to the Continental Con, 
gress, 50. Elected first President of the 
United States, 52. His opinion of slavery, 
54. His last sickness, and death, 55, 66. His 
opinion of John Quincy Adams, 188. His 
letter to Jay, 243. 

Washington, Mary. Her noble character, 11. 

Wayne, Gen., defeats a strong Indian force, 256. 

Webster, Daniel, his views upon slavery exten- 
sion, 292. 

" White House,'' the, description of it as in its 
early days, 159. 

Will and Testament of George Washington, 54. 

WiLMOT Proviso, 294. 

Writ of Habeas Corpus suspended, 417. 






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